


Siege

by seanchaidh



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Technology, False Memories, Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-05-01
Updated: 2002-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seanchaidh/pseuds/seanchaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a distant planet, a man dreams of living the life of a hero, but can his dreams hold more than wishful thinking? Originally published in "Gateways 5" fanzine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Siege

A brother helped by a brother is like a fortified city.  
~Proverbs

Mladen's drawing again.

I ignore him for the moment as I survey the pasture. The sheep are grazing quietly, and I can see a few wandering off toward the river. I put my fingers to my mouth and whistle. Helmar jumps up from the ground and bounds after them. A few moments later, the strays are back with the flock. My dog wanders around them, ready to nip at their heels if they try to leave again.

We won't be bothered here, and even if we are, Helmar and I can handle anything even if Mladen's off on his own. I'm used to that. But it's time for a break. I go to join my brother by the big oak. He's found pieces of bark to scratch on with a sharp stone. He bites his lower lip as he concentrates.

I get out the water and take a swig. That feels good. Even though it's still spring, I know it's going to be a warm day. Helmar trots over to sit by us. He's starting to lose his winter coat. I scratch his head and feel his winter fur start to come away. I know it won't be long until we start shearing the flocks. I'll have to help Mutti with the hiring again. How many men did we need last year?

I frown as I realize I don't remember.

I don't like that. I pride myself on my good memory. I can hear something once and it stays in my mind for eternity. Mutti says I can recall things heard in the cradle. So why can't I remember something as mundane as the details of last year's shearing?

It must be the sickness. Mutti said we were fevered. My mind is just scrambled. I'll remember it in due time.

"Aksel?" My brother doesn't look up from his work. I take a peek, curious at what he's doing. There are tiny images scrawled on the bark. I can see birds I know I've never seen before. Men are crouched in different poses. There are other symbols, too. "I thought of a new word."

"Have you?" I know to humor him when he gets like this. I get out some bread and break off a chunk for Mladen. I give it to him and take away the bark. He can play when he's had something to eat.

"It's a word for the heroes you tell me stories about."

I look up and stare at the flocks. Yes, Mladen, tell me all about the men whose lives I would love to emulate, but how can I? I'm in the fields, watching the sheep with my idiot brother. I shake my head. I have no right to think those thoughts. My duty is here. Without me, my mother would have lost the farm, and I don't even want to imagine where Mladen might be.

"Oh?"

"I have." He takes a bite, chewing quickly before he tells me. "Jack."

I get an odd shiver. He's made up the word. That much is clear. It rolls strangely but very well off his tongue. And yet, it seems so... familiar. I take a quick drink of water. "Tell me more."

* * *

We suffered from the fever four weeks ago.

All I remember is the heat. I must have been chilled because Mutti placed the skins over me. I kicked off the covers and moaned as the cooler air touched my sweat-drenched skin. Nothing made sense. I couldn't remember where I was, or what was wrong with me. I barely remembered my name.

I felt a hand on my forehead, a cool touch to ground me. Mutti. Her familiar gray-haired and wrinkled face smiled at me. I stared at her, meeting her dark-eyed gaze as though I were a newborn. She was smiling at me, her hand moving to smooth my brow and rub against my cheek.

I felt exhausted. Why was she smiling so much?

"Sleep, dearheart," she said to me. "You've been ill."

You think?

But I don't remember anything else of the illness. I remember that night clearly. After Mutti left my side, I lay still and listened. I heard the wind howling past the windows, winter's last gasp before spring. Helmar was outside, barking and whimpering to be let inside. The fire crackled across the room and I heard Mutti singing our favorite lullabies from when we were little. Her low, melodic voice soothed me. I rolled on my side to take a peek.

She was holding Mladen, facing me and away from the fire. The sight of an old woman cradling a grown man in her arms might be strange, but she's always had a soft spot for my brother. I can't even work up any jealousy over her clear favoritism. Younger than me by fourteen summers, he's more of a boy than a man to look at him.

His mind will never be that of a man. He'll remain lost adrift in childhood forever. That's his curse. Mine is to remain here.

Mladen is unique. I know of no other child like him. He's my half brother, born to my mother by her second husband. I don't remember much about the man except for his utter sloth. I avoided him whenever possible, especially when his true nature came out after their marriage. Those were dark days. I remember anger, frustration and bitterness.

And into this came Mladen. He seemed to be a normal child to begin with. He walked and talked normally, according to Mutti. In those days, I was already in the fields with the sheep and doing a man's work when Mutti's husband stayed away. But when Mladen was two summers old, he changed. He withdrew and lost most of the skills he'd gained. He was a baby once more.

Mutti's husband viewed this as an ill omen. He believed Mladen was switched with a changeling, a rumor that spread quickly to our neighbors and to the village. I heard several arguments in the evening, when the husband insisted Mutti do something with the boy. He never called Mladen by his name.

But Mutti refused his demands. She didn't believe there was something wrong.

One day, Mutti and I were in the village, seeking buyers for our wool. Mladen was alone with his father. To this day, I don't know what happened. When we returned home, Mutti screamed when she found Mladen lying still on the bed. She cursed her husband's name and spat on the ground. She barred him from the farm and divorced him.

If the news about Mladen didn't get people talking, Mutti's divorce certainly did. I know of no other woman doing that. I recall being in the village and realizing that everyone was staring at me. I didn't care since I had enough to worry about with my own affairs. Mutti always hired men to help with the shearing and the processing of the wool, but I was in charge of the supervision. I was young to carry that responsibility, but I was used to it even by then.

Mutti never cared about anyone else. She nursed Mladen back to health and raised him well. When my brother gained enough strength and height, I took him with me into the fields. Sometimes he's absolutely no use when I need help, but he knows how to keep out of the way. Besides, that's why I have Helmar. He's better than any of us at keeping the sheep in line.

And so it was the three of us. We don't mind what the villagers think, or even what our neighbors' opinions are. My only and secret worry is about getting a wife one day. Mutti is getting older, and she'll soon need help in areas I can't assist. Women's work. We're already regarded with suspicion elsewhere. Who would want to marry into our family?

I wouldn't.

* * *

Since the fever, I dream more than ever before.

My average dreams are about as interesting as my life. I might see purple grass or one of those strange animals Mladen likes to draw. But every now and again, I'll dream of something that makes me wake up in a cold sweat.

The most frightening one is of fire. People are dying. I want to help people. I'm running and Mladen is with me. For once in his life, he actually follows me and doesn't stray. Strange people are coming after us with weapons, which explode with fire and they have strange markings on their foreheads.

I die in my brother's arms. I know that a moment later, he will follow me.

I always wake up with tears in my eyes, and Mladen's name on my lips as a curse.

I have other dreams. One of those strange beings is with me, but he isn't trying to kill me. I think he's a friend. We go traveling, along with a blonde woman and Not-Mladen. I say that because I know it's not him, but it sure looks a hell of a lot like him. I'm the leader, and we go exploring through the Auge.

I want to be that man. He's everything I've ever wanted to be. He'd never be stuck here tending sheep.

I do think it's strange I dream of the Auge. It sits silently in an unused field not far from the village. Hardly anyone ventures near it, but everyone knows about it. Some people say the faeries live there. One of our neighbors once told Mutti if she went there at midnight and followed a certain ritual, she would find the real Mladen there.

That woman never set foot on our property again.

But as the dreams became more frequent, I wondered about the Auge. What is it? It doesn't seem to be as sinister as the faerie myths and other tales want to suggest. I don't even believe in that superstition. There are plenty of things around the landscape that are the focus of legend, but the Auge is unique. It lives up to its name, as an empty stone eye staring neither forward nor back.

My dreams suggest it's a portal of some kind, and it goes somewhere else. That's the most incredible part yet, even more outrageous than what is whispered by the fires.

I still want to see it and see if I can understand its connection with me and my brother.

* * *

I don't tell Mutti I want to take the flocks near the Auge. Even if she doesn't believe the stories about the faeries, she still regards it as a dangerous thing. At the very least, she thinks it'll topple over in a swift wind or an earthquake. We certainly have enough of those around here.

I went out early to check our supplies in the shed. We'll need firewood again, so I plan to chop some later. I know we are running low on supplies in the house, and I see we need seeds for the summer garden fairly soon. I'll have to take Mladen into town for a supply run before long.

Mutti is up by the time I come back in. She has porridge cooking over the fire. I find her sitting with Mladen on his bed, and he's leaning against her. He looks like he's asleep, but I know better. Mutti insists Mladen's condition isn't permanent. She says the right herb or potion will cure his problem. I think that's as foolish as the villagers with their stories about changeling children.

She tries anyway. She wants the best for us both, but she puts so much of her energy into trying to "help" Mladen. I just figure as long as Mladen eats, sleeps, helps me with the flocks and stays out of trouble, he'll be fine. He's just slow.

This time I see something glistening on his temple as Mutti slowly rocks him. I roll my eyes. This time it's a crystal, or a gem. What next? Does she want me to grab a few leeches from the creek to suck the blood from him? How about some of the poisoned mushrooms at the back of the house? And do I even want to know where this particular cure came from? The tinkers were by not too long ago, and they probably picked this one up from the remote communities at the edge of the valley.

"How long is this going to take?" I ask. I help myself to breakfast. Mutti doesn't move from where she's staying with Mladen. My brother remains dazed, blue eyes half closed. That look unsettles me.

"Not long." Her eyes are only for him. "Aksel, I trust you to keep an eye on your brother."

"And I do, Mutti." I take my place at the table and drag my chair forward. I hate these conversations. "Always. Every day."

"You're so very good with him," she says, but she misses my sarcasm. "I ask you to pay special attention to him."

"Why?" I demand and then shove a big mouthful of porridge into my mouth. We need to get honey from the village. This stuff tastes particularly bland. I wonder how long it was lying in the cupboard before Mutti found it.

Her fingers trace his cheek. "I am promised this treatment will help him. If you see signs of changed behavior, tell me. If he speaks strangely, or does things that aren't like him, I trust you to tell me."

"Like what?" I mumble around my food. I admit she had me curious.

"I found drawings," she says. "He drew them and put them in his bag."

"Mutti, Mladen is _always_ drawing. He's always doing something except helping me with the sheep." This is an old argument, dating from the first time I took Mladen out with me. "If he's not drawing, he's dancing or singing or talking to himself. He's not even in the same world we are."

She shakes her head. "Please respect my wishes."

"Drawings?" I shake my head. I remember the strange birds and symbols he drew the other day. I don't recall anything odd about them. Mladen always loves the unusual. "They're just birds. A lot of birds and people. What differences does it make?"

The look in her brown eyes is fierce. She's the only person who causes me to back down, though a strange memory of a man with no hair and blue eyes comes to mind. I push that thought away as Mutti speaks harshly to me. "Heed my words, boy!"

I'm thirty-three summers and long since a man. And yet, I cower as though I were a child.

* * *

What interest does Mutti have in the drawings?

I find another in the woodshed and I stare at the images. Birds and animals this time. I still have the old one in my pocket and this one joins it. A part of me really wants to know the significance these pictures have for Mutti, and why I should tell her. Another part of me wants me to keep this secret. I'm not sure why.

We moved the flocks forward yesterday to a new pasture. The Auge isn't very far away. I figure in two days' time, we'll be there if nothing goes wrong. I look forward to seeing the strange object. What will my dreams tell me, then?

Mladen falls back and plays by a tree while I inspect some of the sheep. I ignore him. This job is simple enough for one, so he can toss rocks at the trunk as much as he wants. I've decided we'll be ready for shearing in a few weeks, and by the size of the flock, six men should do. We'll have plenty of wool this year, and maybe I can start thinking about marriage and seeking a wife.

When I'm ready for a break, I find Mladen busy with a stick. He's scraping the damp earth and drawing again. He's concentrating as hard as he was with the bark. I watch him for a few moments, then move my boot to scrape over some of the marks.

"You ruined my word!" he protests. He squints up at me.

"Looks like a chicken scratch to me," I say. I sit next to him and take out the water.

"No, it's a word," he insists. He retraces the mark. "See?"

I examined the mark. "That doesn't look like writing to me."

"It is. See?" He recites something at the same time as he moves the stick over it. "Ah-bee-dose."

Loops and swirls. That's all I saw. "Mladen, even if it were a word?" Ah-bee-dose, what kind of word is that? It sounds as strange as Jack. "That's not writing."

"Then what is writing?" he asks.

"From what I've seen, it looks like this." I take the stick from his hand and traced a symbol I recall from the village. I don't understand how those combinations of lines and dashes work, but the runes represent letters and such. That much I know. "See, like that?"

He peers at it. "That's nice." And he utters a _th_.

"Huh?"

"That's the sound that one makes. A _th_." He looks proud of this.

"How do you know that?" I ask. Mutti's words from earlier came to mind, but this... What does this have to do with a stupid rock?

"I don't know, but I know a lot." He makes more loops and swirls that are visibly different from Ah-bee-dose. "See this? This is my name."

"Mladen." That's an easy one, even if it's gibberish.

He looks at me, and for a moment, I see something else in those blue eyes. I catch a glimmer of the Not-Mladen from my dream as my brother shakes his head. "No. My name is Daniel."

* * *

I watch my brother for the rest of the day. He spends most of his time drawing in the earth. Every now and again, he has a new word for me. "Pyramid." "Sarcophagus." "Jaffa." All are strange to my ears, and yet they are familiar. But the one that rings truest still is Daniel.

This is all nonsense. A make-believe language and scratchings in the ground aren't going to get the flocks sheared or get us through the upcoming year. I notice Mladen's behavior, and I decide to tell Mutti.

We arrive home at dusk. I tell Mladen to stack what's left of our firewood closer to the house. He smiles and sets off to work eagerly.

Mutti is by the fire. I walk up to stand at her side. The stew she is cooking smells wonderful. All I want to do is sit down and eat, but first I decide to report my findings.

"I found him doing things again, Mutti," I say quietly.

Her back stiffens. "What did you see?"

"He drew strange things on the ground," I tell her, and sit on a chair. I reach for the bread sitting on the table. At least I can ease my hunger's edge in the meantime. "He said they were words, but I didn't recognize them when he repeated them. To prove him wrong, I drew one of the runes I've seen in the village. I wanted to show him those weren't words."

"You don't know how to read," she says, more of an annoyance than a reminder of our family's place in society. Mere farmers rarely have the chance to learn the exalted arts of reading and writing.

"I _know_ that," I say, "but a _th_ is pretty easy! I mean, we go to the Theoden all the time, and that's the rune on the front door. The point is, Mutti, he knew it. He knew the association between the sign and the sound. He's never done that before."

"Perhaps he does for the same reason you do," she replies. I don't like that tone. She patronizes me when she feels I'm being illogical. It's a sign she doesn't want to discuss the topic much longer. "Mladen is smarter than anyone realizes. I always had hope he would overcome his difficulties."

I want to tell her she's spent nearly twenty summers in false hope, but I bite my tongue. I wonder, too, if there's something more. I recall the way he calmly identified himself as Daniel, as readily as I call myself Aksel. He believed his words.

Something tickles my mind. I want to brush it away, but it remains without revealing itself. I don't tell my mother what's troubling me as I watch her begin serving our meal.

"I'll have to continue the treatment tonight," she decides after several moments have passed.

I say nothing.

Hours later, I lie in my bed and watch the embers in the fire. I want to sleep, but my mind won't let me. There are too many thoughts. I roll over and stare at the wall, but sleep will not come. I turn back to the fire one more time before giving up.

I want water. I flip back the skins and walk to where Mutti keeps the jars. I pass Mladen as I go. He's been in bed longer than I, since Mutti placed the jewel on his temple. He looks as though he's dreaming. He frowns and turns beneath his skins.

I don't want to wake him as I get my drink. I intend to go immediately back to bed when he murmurs in his sleep. I pause, listening. He's making words that don't make sense, like the ones he uttered in the fields.

I glance at Mutti, but she remains asleep.

Mladen speaks again. I kneel by his side and place my hand on his forehead. I whisper to him. "You're dreaming. Calm down."

His eyes open and he looks at me. After a moment, he asks, "Jack?"

It takes me a moment to place the word. He said it means hero, a wise hero who is a true friend to his companions. Why is he calling me Jack? I'm not a hero.

"Go back to sleep," I say.

"No." He shakes his head, and one hand catches the sleeve of my nightshirt. Long fingers pull the fabric. "Jack, where are Sam and Teal'c?"

The same familiarity taunts me, but I don't know those words. I assume they're names. I untangle his fingers and put his hand back on his chest. "Don't worry. I'll see you in the morning."

"I'm scared, Jack," he whispers. He glances at the room, then returns his gaze to me. "I don't know what's going on."

"You're just having a dream, Mladen," I answer, and try to be stern. "Go back to sleep."

He blinks, and the pull of Mutti's treatment brings him back down to slumber. He says something under his breath. I don't dare say anything until I know he's asleep again. It isn't until I'm in my own bed that I even wonder at what transpired, and consider the last words he whispered.

Why does he still call himself Daniel?

* * *

I dream again. I see my dream-self, the Not-Mladen, the blonde woman and the other. We leave the Auge and travel through a field. We approach a village.

Not-Mladen and the blonde woman discuss things. I have no interest in them. I keep glancing around. I expect to see people, and it worries me when there's no one to be seen. The other walks away from us, the pole in his hand used as a staff instead of a weapon.

The village is a shell. Few buildings remain intact. Many have fallen into disrepair, and others are gutted by fire. Weeds grow everywhere. My companions and I are quiet as we walk. A single word is uttered.

Go-ah-ould.

The word sends shudders down my spine, and my dream-self expects to see them. But this destruction is from years past. Ghosts walk through this town. We have yet to find a person willing to tell us their story.

The earth was disturbed along the street. The woman and Not-Mladen say something was buried long ago. I look around, and discover we are before a building. A sign remains in front.

 _Th_. The Theoden.

And then I am running and there is fire and screaming and death.

I fall, and find myself cradled in Mladen's arms. He holds me close, and cries at the wound burnt into my chest. I won't live long. I beg Mladen to go, but he stays.

I wake with Mladen's name on my lips, the way I would utter a curse.

Dawn isn't far away, and I'm glad the night is over. I don't want to sleep again.

* * *

Mutti is ill this morning.

I'm tempted to think there was a mean-spirited ghost wandering through the house last night. Mladen and I both had troubled dreams, and Mutti complains of pain and fatigue. But that's not the real answer, at least for what's bothering my mother.

This is another reminder my mother will not be here forever. One day, probably soon, she will join our ancestors. I need to make plans.

I have to begin a search for a wife.

But where would I begin? It's usually proper for parents to arrange a betrothal, but I doubt that will work. Mutti may be sick for several days. I need to begin this quickly. I decide to plan a strategy over the next day or two while we're moving the flocks, and then I can ask Mutti for assistance.

Maybe she'll even have a grandchild before she dies. One blessing for the hard life she's led.

Under normal circumstances, I would say there shouldn't be too much opposition to another family wishing to marry into ours. We're hard workers, and while we aren't wealthy, we have sufficient land and our flocks are healthy. Times are lean, and while I wouldn't be able to offer a life of luxury for my future bride, we could survive without scrimping.

But then there's Mladen.

What do I do with him? Our little changeling might get in the way of any matchmaking. His father certainly damaged my mother's reputation, and the very fact Mladen is unusual also casts doubt on us. I'm sure we could work around it, though, with level heads. For all his strangeness, Mladen is easy to like, if annoying at times.

I broach the idea of marriage during our midday break. Mladen isn't drawing today, and he has no new words for me. He follows me or plays fetch with Helmar while I tend to the sheep. He's too quiet for my liking, and I hope conversation, even one-sided discussion, draws him out.

"I'm thinking about getting married," I say. He's eating cheese as I talk. "We could use another set of hands around the farm."

He nods, and doesn't look at me. He gnaws on a single piece for several moments. I can see he's frowning. His brows are drawn together as though he's puzzled.

"I'm trying to remember who's available," I continue. "Pieran, do you remember him? He has a farm on the other side of the village. He grows mostly fruits and vegetables. I seem to remember him having several daughters."

"Gone," Mladen says softly.

"They're married already?" I frown. "I suppose they are. Most of them were old enough. Who else is there? Cadogan buys some of our raw wool, and he has a daughter, but I think I remember hearing about an engagement."

He doesn't have anything to say about that. I pass him the bread so he can take a chunk. I try to think of someone else. I rarely have anything to do with people who aren't related to our business. That cuts down on my knowledge of gossip and social events.

"I'll have to ask Mutti for help," I say with a sigh. "Knowing my luck, I'll end up with a hag. She'll be ugly, have no teeth, and she'll be nasty."

"You may get lucky," Mladen speaks up, talking around a mouthful of bread.

I peer at him. "If I even find someone, you mean." I can't believe I'm having this conversation with him. Women would never want to marry him, let alone want to have a child with him. "The last thing I want to have to do is marry some poor kid. I don't think I could stand that."

"Maybe you can find a wife like mine," he says. He's staring out at the meadow as he speaks, and I can see a faint smile. He seems happy with this idea.

"You have a wife?" I can't help the sarcasm. I know it's not true, but I'm curious about the life Mladen seems to be inventing for himself. "Really. Tell me about her."

"She's so beautiful. She's smart and funny and so brave." He becomes animated as he talks. He turns to look at me, and his eyes are very bright. "I miss her. I love her so much."

I could see her in my imagination. She has long, dark hair that flows past her shoulders and luminous brown eyes. For a moment, I wonder if we're sitting in a faerie glade, and if we are under a spell.

She seems so real.

* * *

I bring up the topic of marriage again at dinner. We return home to find Mutti up and cooking. She seems well, and it is her returned health that prompts our conversation.

She is elated at my decision.

"We must begin to find you a bride!" she exclaims and claps her hands together. She gets up and moves to my side, placing a kiss on my forehead. "I have waited long for you to say those words!"

I blushed. "You have?"

"I would love a grandchild before my time arrives," she says. I can only stare. She has never uttered a word about wanting grandchildren. "Tomorrow evening, we will go visiting."

I spend the next day wondering what type of bride I may acquire. We're not rich, and our reputation will likely make an already meager selection even smaller. But Mutti has her ways.

When we bring the flocks home, I bathe outside. The water is cold, and my skin quickly turns red. I'm just putting on my clothes, a heavy woolen shirt and a kilt which goes below my knees when Mutti comes to me. She smiles and makes me turn my back to her.

"Sit still," she orders.

I can feel her touching my hair. "What are you doing?"

"Making you presentable," she says, and I can hear a teasing tone in her voice. "You want to impress your future bride, don't you?"

"I suppose," I reply. Her fingers move through my hair, and several minutes later, she's done. I start to turn again, but she stops me. I sigh. "Now what?"

"Stay there for a few moments. I'll be right back."

I watch her go to Mladen, who's drawing at the table. She pulls the bark from his grasp and washes his face and hands. He makes a few protests, but she chides him into silence. Soon he's dressed in an outfit similar to mine, and I get a glimpse of slightly grubby legs beneath his kilt.

"Who are we going to see?" I ask. My scalp itches.

"Asrard," she says.

"I don't know him," I reply. The name evokes an image of a very small man, grey and bald with huge unblinking eyes. I shudder to think what a daughter of this man might look like! I reach to scratch a spot behind my left ear, but Mutti slaps my hand.

"Don't touch!" she snaps, and I scowl at her. "And of course you don't know him. He's the blacksmith, and we don't exactly shoe sheep, now, do we? And don't give me that look, boy."

"It itches!" I protest. I need to scratch and put my fingernails to my jaw instead. I can feel whiskers growing. "Shouldn't I shave?"

"You look fine," she says. Moments later, she's doing something else to my hair. It feels like she's fussing with it and finally smoothing it down. She holds a tarnished mirror, and I see myself - neat brown hair, dark eyes and a rough brownish beard. "Perfect."

I take her word for it.

Asrard lives on a small piece of land not far from our property. I wonder why I've never seen him before. A small house and stable sit amid trees and small gardens. I assume he rides into town every day when he needs to work. I like this place. It's quiet. He even has a creek where he can fish.

Lucky guy.

I'm so relieved when he turns out to be a large, well-built man with a thick gray beard and massive eyebrows. His eyes are dark and friendly. I vaguely remember him from the village. He sees my mother and goes to greet her with a smile.

"Sigrada! Good evening to you!" He stops as he sees Mladen and me. His eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, by the ancestors..."

I glance at Mladen. Even he's noticed the odd comment. My brother's eyebrows are raised in question. But Mutti just smiles and says, "The Lady was right. Did I not say her words would come true?"

"I should never have doubted." Asrard seems particularly elated. He comes and seizes my hand. He shakes it hard and for a long time. "Aksel, it's good to know you're up again!"

Ah. The fever. Illnesses are the type of news everyone knows about, along with divorces and strange children.

He finishes shaking my hand, and I have to shake my fingers to get the circulation back. His grip is hard. He smiles at Mladen, putting his hands on shoulders. My brother smiles shyly. "Your boys look wonderful, Sigrada! You are truly blessed."

Mutti seems proud. "Thank you, Asrard. I have come to ask you a favor. My son seeks a wife, and I believe your clan is an excellent one. We would be honored to have your blessing."

"Come inside," he beckons. "We'll have to discuss this."

We find a woman and three girls inside. They all seemed surprised to see us. Two of the girls are young, but the third is much older. She catches my eye as we enter and smiles faintly. She isn't too tall, and she's heavyset in a very pleasant way. Blue eyes and dark blonde hair catch my attention.

Her name is Idalea, and if Mutti has her way, this girl may be my future bride.

I don't think I mind.

My mother and her parents send the two of us to another room, so we can talk privately. My last glimpse of my brother is Mladen seated silently at the table, with the sisters staring at him and the adults talking over him when he made a comment. He doesn't seem to mind. I turn my attention to my companion. Idalea isn't shy, and doesn't hide the fact she's judging me. We regard each other for a few moments, and she finally grins.

"Don't you ever shave?" she asks.

I blink. "Sometimes."

"You look like a shepherd," she teases.

"What a coincidence," is my dry reply.

"I don't like scruffy looks, and for the record, I think your brother's cuter," she says. There's a twinkle in her eye. "But I suppose you will do."

"That's... good," I say.

She puts her hands on the table and faces me. "So you want a wife?"

"That's the general idea of the visit," I tell her.

"Right. Okay, here are the facts. I don't cook well. I do only the cleaning that needs to be done, and forget about weaving and stuff like that. Gardens are fine, and if you snore, prepare to learn how to stop." She takes a breath. "Any questions?"

All I can do is blink. "Do you like sheep?"

"I like them better than horses," she replies.

"That's good." I glance at the closed door where the others are, then turn back to her. "What do you think of my brother?"

"The changeling? Isn't that what people say he is?" She shrugs. "I don't believe in faeries, myself."

I find myself letting out a sigh of relief. "Good. Neither do I."

"I figured that's what you meant. My mother might not totally agree, since she swears every missing thing in the house was taken by a faerie or something." She smiles at me. "Mladen seems sweet."

"He's sometimes a little strange," I tell her, "but he's a good kid."

She nods. "With a mother like Sigrada, I'm sure both of you are perfect gentlemen. For shepherds, I mean." She grins at me. "So, should we agree to court?"

I find myself relaxing. I hadn't realized I was tense. "I think that's a good idea."

"Good." She walks over to me and places a gentle kiss on my lips. "I'd like that."

* * *

That night, after our families shared a meal to symbolize the upcoming union, Idalea and I made plans to formalize our engagement. The tradition in our village is to conduct a ritual, usually by giving an offering to the river spirits. We decided to meet just past noon, and each bring a witness. Idalea would bring a cousin, and I would take Mladen with me.

The idea of getting down on my knee and proposing marriage comes to mind. It would be a lot easier, but Mutti would throw a fit if I did something different.

It's almost noon, and I can't think of anything appropriate for my gift. We're too poor to own a sword, which is the usual offering. I look at some of the gardening tools Mutti has stored, but none look right. Time is running out, and soon we have to leave.

I can't believe how nervous I am.

"What kind of a marriage will I have if I toss a spoon in?" I lament to no one in particular as I storm around the house. "We'll end up being barren, just out of spite!"

"I may have something," Mutti says, glancing around the room. "Go outside and get more water from the well. I'll pull something together."

I follow her command. Mladen follows to help me. We work in silence, until Mladen tugs on my sleeve and nearly makes me drop the bucket on my foot. "I found something for you to use."

"Yeah?" I barely pay attention to him. He probably drew something again and wants me to see.

He tugs on my sleeve again. "Come with me?"

"Fine." The sooner I see whatever it is, the faster I'll be back to the chores.

Mladen brings me to the woodshed, and makes sure I stay before going to get something from a hole I didn't know about. He pulls out something wrapped in cloth, and places it in my hands. I unwrap it to find a sheathed dagger.

"Where did you find this?" I ask. It's unlike anything I've seen before.

He shrugs, and wanders off. I'm not going to get an answer from him. He's distracted by something. I know he was digging over there a few days ago. I let out a sigh and look at the knife again.

I suppose it will do.

We leave half an hour later. Mutti gave me a candlestick to use, but I don't have the heart to bring it. I know this has been in the family for ages, and is of great value. I'd rather risk the spoon than use this. The dagger will do.

Idalea meets me with a kiss. Her cousin, Veleda, is a few years older and already married. Asrard gave his daughter a nice sword he made several years ago. It has a long, strong blade and a jeweled handle. I can't help admiring it. Mladen offers to carry the sword for them, which gets the girls giggling and smiling.

The main shrine is in the middle of the village, on the banks of the river Fara. It's the best place I can think of for our ritual. When I suggest we go there, Idalea stares at me aghast.

"What?" I ask.

"We can't go to the village," she says.

"Why not?"

"You're serious?" Veleda asks, exchanging looks with Idalea.

"I asked you why we can't go to the village." I wait for them to answer, but they both still looked shocked. "I'm serious. I want to know."

"By the gods," Veleda murmurs.

"I can't believe you don't know," Idalea exclaims. "The village is cursed!"

I snort. "Right."

"No, it really is. The spirits and the faeries were angered," Veleda adds.

"Sure they were," I retort, and I give Idalea a look. "I thought you didn't believe in faeries."

"I don't!" she replies, but there's something about her that tells me to take her words seriously. "But it's true. No one goes to the village anymore."

"Cursed?" Mladen repeats, and sounds worried. His eyes are wide.

"You and your superstitions," I grumble, and I grab Mladen's hand to pull him along. "You're upsetting my brother. Now let's go!"

We don't give the girls a chance to object. This is one of the few times I wish we had a horse, but running is good. Luckily the village isn't too far away. When we finally approach it on the horizon, I slow my pace. Mladen's hand is jerked in my grip, and he complains.

"That hurts," he says and tries to free himself.

I hang on. I can't do anything else.

We have entered my dream.

The village is destroyed.

* * *

Idalea and Veleda stay where they are, far from the curse. I keep holding Mladen's hand and lead him into the ruins. We pass the blackened buildings slowly, and I stare in shock.

"This happened a long time ago," Mladen says softly.

I can only nod.

And there it is. The Theodan, with the _th_ on the front of the building. I stop before it, staring up at the public house where Mladen and I would eat when we came into town. Charred wood barely stands on a stone foundation.

The ground we stand upon is disturbed.

I jump away, pulling Mladen with me.

I flee to the sanctuary, and sink down on the grass near a tree. We're in an oasis of green amid a world of ashes. Mladen sits beside me, and he watches me intently. My head is spinning.

Why didn't I know?

And how did I know?

The Fara keeps flowing. I turn my attention to the clear waters. I see hints of offerings past mixed with the river stones. I sneer at the stream. People have come here for how long? How many swords and daggers littered the bottom of the river? And what did they get out of it?

"Fara means protection," Mladen says. I glance at him. His knees are drawn up to his chest, and he looks at me with wide blue eyes.

"And look at the good it did them," I shoot back. "Nothing!"

"They think this is cursed. They understand." He shrugs. "Belief in deities of water is old. They think someone threw in something bad or with an evil intent."

"Spirits, faeries, ghosts," I sneer. "Fat lot of nonsense."

Mladen looks at the sword by his side. "I want to go home."

"We'll go in a minute."

"No." His tone is the firmest I've ever heard. "I want to go _home_."

For an instant, my mind wonders if the stories are true. Mladen the changeling, now finally wants to return to the eternal land where he originally came. I banish the thought in a moment.

"We don't belong here," he says. "We should be somewhere else."

"With your wife?" I snap. "With the big dark guy with the gold thing on his forehead? The blonde woman who talks too much? The bald, fat man?"

"Home," he agrees with a nod.

He reaches across to pluck the dagger from my bag. He looks at it for a long moment, then throws it into the stream. Mladen watches the ripples for a long moment, then looks at me again. "I want to go home, Jack."

"Don't call me that," I hiss. "It isn't my name."

"Yes, it is."

"It isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't!"

He sighs. "Jack. You're Jack."

"Right, and you're Daniel?" I shake my head. "You seem so sure of everything, Mladen. I only wish I could be. I don't know which way is up anymore!"

"Then follow me." He rises to his feet and leaves the sword on the ground. "We'll figure it out together."

I ignore him. "Go home, Mladen."

He stands for a long moment.

"Go!" I shout.

I hear footsteps slowly making their way back into the burned-out town. I sigh and cover my face with my hands. What's going on? I feel like I'm losing my mind.

I see the sword Mladen left. I grasp it by the handle and pull it over. It glistens dully in the sunlight. I look from it to the water and wonder if I should bother going through the motions. I don't believe in faeries or spirits, but I don't know what to think anymore.

What the hell.

I get to my feet and with a swing, I toss the weapon into the river.

"Let me know the truth!" I call to the air.

The splash answers me, and the thought occurs to me I'd just had the longest conversation ever with Mladen.

* * *

Mutti is going to kill me. I can't find Mladen!

And that's I've searched all over the village, but he's gone. He's vanished.

Like a faerie.

I run into Idalea at the edge of town. Her cousin has left, and she's sitting on the ground, her cloak wrapped around her. She jumps to her feet as I approach.

"What's going on?" she asks.

"Did you see my brother?" I demand.

"No. Why?" She glances around us, then back at me. "Where's the sword?"

"Tossed in," I say, distracted. Where the hell did he go?

"What?" She slaps my arm. "Aksel, we were supposed to do that together!"

I shrug. "Look, it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters!" she yells. "You're going to jinx the marriage!"

"The marriage will be fine!" I grab her arms and make her face me. "Idalea, you and I will be fine! But right now, what's important is my brother has wandered off somewhere. We have to find him!"

Discovering the trail was the easiest part. I saw Mladen's footprints right away, leading down the riverbank in the general direction of our farm. Mladen might make it back by himself, or he might not. I'm betting on the second. As we go, I keep my eye out for company. I think I'm foolish to do this, but I keep expecting to see someone along the way.

The creatures with the golden marks on their foreheads.

I don't tell any of this to Idalea as we go. She already thinks I'm odd, and I don't want her to think even less of me.

"Where do you think he went?" she asks.

"He told me he wanted to go home," I reply. What was Mladen wearing again? A cap, his brown tunic and a skin jacket. We'll never see him from a distance. "But Mladen's not good at directions."

"He's doing well so far," she says. "He's smarter than you give him credit for."

"He's just a kid," I snap.

"He's a man, Aksel, just like you are." She gives me a look and a wry smile. "Or should I be asking my father if I can marry your brother instead?"

I groan.

The prints become farther apart. It seems Mladen began to run. What was he doing? Going home like he said? Mutti is going to _kill_ me. I grab Idalea's hand and take off in a run after Mladen's path. I'm plagued by visions of him being attacked by beasts, both real and imaged, or being chased by bullies.

We nearly fall over him several long minutes later. Mladen is sprawled on his side in the long grass on the riverbank. He plays with pebbles he's plucked from the ground, and has built a strange-looking four-sided building that goes up to a point. He glances at us as we stumble to a stop, breathing heavily and sweating from every pore.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yell almost at the top of my lungs.

He puts a stone on top of the rest. "Building."

"That's all you can say?" I snarl, and kick at the pile. The pebbles skitter across the grass, and some of them splash into the water. "You're building? Do you have any idea how scared I was? Did you even think about that when you ran off?"

He blinks at me. His hand is still frozen from where he was building. I'd barely missed it with my kick. "I wanted to go home."

"Oh, and it's all about what you want, is it?" I glare at him. "Then why didn't you go home crying to Mutti? You're a baby!"

"Aksel, calm down," Idalea says firmly, stepping in front of me.

"Calm down?" I rage. "After what he put me through?"

"Can't go home," Mladen says softly, almost too quiet for me to hear.

Idalea gives me a dirty look and pushes me away before she goes to crouch in front of my brother. She runs her fingers down his cheek, and Mladen gives her shaky smile.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asks.

"Ankle hurts," he whimpers. He reaches for his foot, but Idalea catches his hand and puts it in his lap. She glares at me for a moment before checking his ankle.

I cross my arms and watch, still fuming.

"I think he's twisted it," she says after a moment. I get a glimpse of a slightly red joint that she quickly wraps up. She runs her hand over it for a moment, then peers up the tunic to get a look at his knees. I see he's skinned them both. "You must have taken quite the tumble, Mladen. What did you do?"

"I tripped," he said, and points to a spot not too far away.

"And if you hadn't run away, you never would have done that!" I snap at him.

Idalea turns to me and glares. She's almost as scary as Mutti. "Aksel, dunk your head in the river, now! Maybe the cold water will make you calm down!"

I go to dunk my head. The water is very, very cold.

"Dammit, Daniel!" I exclaim when my head is above water again. The shock stole my breath away. I shake my head quickly, letting the water spray around for a few moments before turning back to them. Idalea is scouting the grass where Mladen tripped, while my brother is picking at one of his knees.

Mladen looks at me when he hears my exclamation. A little smile plays on his lips, then he frowns. "Aksel? Your hair is dripping brown."

"Huh?" I run my hand through my hair.

"By the gods!" Idalea gets to her knees and waddles over to my side. Her blue eyes are huge, larger than Mladen's. She reaches out to touch my temple, and I feel her fingers rubbing strands of hair together. "Aksel..."

"What?" I look at my own fingers. A brown substance coats the skin. I rub them together and the substance quickly disappears. "What is that?"

"Your hair," she whispers. "It's silver."

"What are you talking about?" I demand.

"The brown must be dye," she says, and I can tell she's trying to regain her composure. "It was covering this. Your hair..."

"My hair can't be silver!" I retort. "I'm not old!"

"Look at the water," she tells me. She guides me by the shoulders back to the riverbank. I lean over, and feel her cheek resting against the top of my head as we both stare in. "What do you see?"

I can't speak. I can only stare at the reflection, clearer now than it was before in Mutti's mirror. I see dark eyes, a lined face, and hair that is definitely silver. The reflection frowns along with me, and I put my hand against my face.

This isn't me, but it is. I am old...

* * *

We stay by the river for a while longer. I'm too stunned to move, and my hands are covering my face. Idalea sits next to me, her wide eyes fixed on my hair. Mladen is asleep, napping with his head in Idalea's lap. We sit in silence for several long minutes, and the only sound is the Fara and birds flying overhead.

"Do I look different to you?" I ask her. I put down my hands and face her. I want answers desperately.

She studies me closely for several moments. "No, you don't, but I never knew you well, Aksel. The silver hair is different, I admit to that, but I think I like it."

"It makes me look old," I grumble, and I run my hand through the damp strands. "I'm not an old man, Idalea!"

"Shh." She takes the hat off Mladen's head and sets it over mine. She arranges the fabric and brushes my hair under it. "There. Now it shouldn't bother you anymore."

"Thank you." I don't bother to tell her the color is still there. She can't do anything about that. I catch her hand and kiss her palm. She flushes a soft pink, and I can't help but chuckle. When I release her hand, I speak again. "May I ask you some questions?"

"If I have the answers," she says. Her hand goes to Mladen's head, and gently strokes his forehead. My brother smiles in his sleep.

There are so many questions swirling in my mind. I sit still for a moment, and finally I reach for the closest one. "How long ago was the village destroyed?"

"Five springs ago, when the last of the snow disappeared," she says. I can tell she's come to expect we don't know things. She's patient in her replies. "It was market day."

And I saw it in my mind's eye. I was there with Mladen in the crowded streets, and around us were tables filled with every imaginable good. I remember pulling Mladen from some tables. There were certain things we needed, and once we had them, we could go exploring.

"What happened?" I ask.

"They say the faeries and the spirits rose up to destroy the village," she says softly. "But that's just what the people who weren't there think. There weren't many survivors, and most were too frightened at the time to really understand. Most of them agree it was the faeries for whatever reason, but others won't say."

I saw the strange beings from my dreams racing down the streets. They kill everyone in their way. I fall and my world is dark... but I suddenly realize my eyes were closed. I open my eyes to find Idalea watching me. She seems hesitant. "What is it?"

"Stories did finally come out of the destruction," she tells me. Her voice is soft. "Some of those stories are about you and your brother."

I swallow hard, and I find I'm not surprised. "There's always a story about Mladen and me."

"This is a different story. They say when the destruction began, you and Mladen tried to help people escape. You brought a group of children to hide in the reeds on the riverbank, near the sanctuary." She has a small smile. "They survived, but when you went into the village again, you both perished."

"That's not possible," I say. She's described my dream, but I couldn't have died. "I'm here."

"I know," she replies. "Your mother, when they told her the news, said you weren't dead. Everyone around thinks she's in denial."

"It's not just a river in Egypt," I quip.

She stares at me. "What?"

"Nothing." I shake my head and sigh. "What did Mutti say?"

"She said the Lady approached her and told her you and your brother were coming home."

I frown at her words. The Lady... I'd heard Mutti occasionally invoke her name, but most times I never gave any thought to her words. Nor did I ever think who this person or deity actually was. "Who's the Lady?"

Her smile is indulgent. "The older folk, my father included, believe the Lady is not a god, but an immortal being who watches over our people throughout the valley."

"Watches over us? As in protects?"

"Yes," she says.

"Then she isn't doing her job," I say, and I'm ready to relegate her to the same myths as the faeries and the river spirits.

"Immortal but fallible," Idalea chides me. "I'm not sure if I believe in her, myself, but your mother says the Lady came to her the day of the destruction. Smoke was on the horizon, and the omens were bad. The Lady told your mother no matter what happened, you and Mladen would return."

I let that news sink in. "And we did return."

"So it would appear. Some wonder if you weren't taken back with your changeling brother to the faerie lands."

I snort, but otherwise I don't say a word. Idalea's words whirl around my mind. How do they explain my strange dreams? Or, for that matter, Mladen's words and drawings Mutti seems intent to discover and stop. They seem to suggest another life, don't they?

I rub my fists against my eyes in frustration.

"What are you thinking?" Idalea whispers.

I choose my words carefully. "Do you think it's possible that... I mean, do you think I might not be Aksel?"

"I never believed in the rumors about the faeries," she says, "but what you're speaking now is even more rubbish."

"You say you haven't seen Mladen and me for five years?" I demand.

"You're a shepherd," she replies. "These have been lean years, and most of the time I know flocks are being taken out further and further for fresh pastures."

"But that's an excuse," I say.

She relents. "Perhaps."

"And my hair is proof," I say bitterly.

She leans across to kiss my cheek. "Handsome proof. So if you aren't Aksel, what should I call you?"

For several long moments, I consider the question. This time, the answer comes easily, and for once, seems correct.

"Mladen says my name is Jack. Call me Jack."

* * *

Mladen wakes several minutes later. I'm ready to move on by then, so once my brother is sitting up, I start to help him to his feet. He staggers for a moment, and I can tell his ankle is still painful. It's only slightly swollen. I put my arm around his chest, and Idalea stands to put her arm around his waist. The three of us start hobbling off.

And there, on the horizon, is the Auge.

I falter for a moment. I'm very surprised to see it. I hadn't realized Mladen ran this far. The object beckons to me, and I know we'll have to pass it on our way home.

"Can we go another way?" Idalea asks.

"Not without taking a longer route," I tell her.

Mladen stares at the Auge, and he has a smile on his lips. "I want to see it."

For once, I'm in the mood to indulge my brother. We make our way toward the Auge, and when I glance at Idalea, I can see she's trying to put on a brave face. For all her talk of not believing in the faeries, I know she's wary of this ancient site.

The Auge sits on a high platform, surrounded by grasses and wildflowers. According to the more popular legends, the faeries live within the platform, or is it that they pass through the empty eye during the full moon? Maybe both. I can see where the stories may have come from, and I am not surprised to find we're the only ones in the immediate area.

I leave Mladen and Idalea by the large mushroom-shaped object not too far from the Auge. I say large, since both my brother and Idalea can lean against it, but compared to the Auge, which towers above me, the object is small. I slowly climb the steps to explore.

"I don't like it here," I hear Idalea say.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," Mladen says softly.

"What if there's a wind?" she asks. "Or an earthquake? You know we get a lot of those. The quakes aren't large, but I've seen rocks fall. What if one happens and brings the Auge down on top of us?"

"It's lasted this long," I call. I can feel something seeking escape in my mind, and the Auge is prompting it to come. "It'll last a little longer."

But I know it won't stop her from worrying.

I stand in the center of the Auge and close my eyes. On an impulse, I reach out and try to touch the edges of the object. What I can touch feels warm, and though I know this is metal, it's unlike anything I've touched before...

Or have I?

"Aksel?" Idalea calls, and I can hear her worry. "Jack?"

And then I see it.

The center of the Auge is filled with water, but we come out from the water. At my side, I see the blonde woman, the other and the Not-Mladen. This time, my mind fills in a missing detail. Daniel. His name is Daniel.

We step down from the platform and make our way through the field. We go to the village. As we explore and discover the gutted remains of the village, the blonde woman tumbles and cries out in pained surprised.

"Gopher hole, I think," she winces, but when Daniel goes to help her, she can't help the groan of pain that escapes her lips. "That hurts!"

"You've probably twisted it," Daniel says, glancing at me with his blue eyes. "We should take her back."

The other steps forward. "I will assist her."

"Well, kids, there doesn't seem to be much around here to look at," I say. "Whatever happened here, it was a long time ago. Teal'c, take Carter back to the SGC and have Fraiser take a look at her ankle. Send the MALP back with you, too. Daniel and I will keep looking around."

"Yes, sir," the blonde woman says. She's transferred from Daniel to Teal'c.

"Tell Hammond we'll be just another half hour, and don't worry, Carter, we'll bring you back some goodies to analyze in the lab," I say to her and grin. "By the looks of the river, there might be some good fishing around here. Maybe when your ankle's taped up, we can take time out to fish."

Teal'c stiffens at my words. "As long as you discover no mosquitoes, O'Neill."

I laugh. Daniel and I watch them leave, before we continue our exploration. I'm enjoying the sunshine. Daniel reaches out and touches my arm.

"Do you hear that?" he asks.

I listen carefully. "I don't hear anything."

"No birds," he acknowledges. "But they were singing just a few minutes ago."

I get my weapon up and we look around us. I don't see anything. There's no movement anywhere. But then, the ground groans and shakes. An earthquake! I lose my balance and am knocked over. Daniel lands heavily beside me, his arms up to shield his head from any falling debris.

It's over a minute later.

"Welcome to California," I grumble, starting to get to my feet.

"That wasn't fun," he replies, dusting himself off.

"You think?" I rub my elbow. "Okay, one more look before heading back to the Stargate."

"No argument from me," he mutters.

But there, at the edge of the destroyed village, is a woman. Wrapped in a cloak, she pulls back the hood as we approach. She has gray hair and a wrinkled face. A smile slowly grows on her face as we approach, and she lets out a delighted laugh.

Mutti?

I snap out of my memory when I hear a loud noise around me. Parts of the Auge are lighting up. Confused, I look around and then focus at the small object where Mladen and Idalea are waiting. My brother is doing something. He bites his lower lip as he focuses and presses down on the device.

He's touched five places, and as I become aware of what he's doing, he reaches for a sixth.

And I know I have to get out of here!

"Stop!" I shout, starting to run.

Mladen touches the seventh and places his hand on the rosy center. I howl a curse as I throw myself down to the ground.

The Auge remains silent.

"You idiot!" I shout once the shock wears off. I don't know what's affecting me more - knowing Mladen nearly killed me, or the Auge didn't activate the way I know it should. Either way, I get to my feet and charge at my brother. I push him away from the object and we tumble down the ground. "Do you know what the hell you were doing? Huh?"

I land on top of him, and he lets out a grunt of pain. "Jack..."

The name doesn't stop me from my anger. I pummel him as we roll on the earth. "You stupid moron! I can't believe you did that! You of all people should know what that would have done!"

"Stop it!" Idalea shouts, and she tries to pull me away from Mladen. She's not strong enough to succeed, and I wrench away from her.

"Answer me!" I demand, grabbing Mladen by the collar. He looks dazed, but I want him to respond. I _need_ him to answer. "Come on! You know that would've killed me!"

"Stop...!" he cries.

"You know that, Daniel!" I shout. "Tell me!"

Something hits me on the head. I fall down and land on top of Mladen. I'm stunned. Mladen pushes and shoves at me. He finally rolls away, sobbing on his side.

"Not Daniel," he whimpers. "Want to go home."

* * *

We arrive home at dusk. My head is sore and I'm easily irritated. I've snapped a few times at Mladen as we walked. Idalea parted ways with us after she made certain I wouldn't wring Mladen's neck. Mutti is waiting, pacing at the entrance of the house.

"Where have you been?" she snaps as I help a dazed Mladen into the house. "What's wrong with Mladen?"

I set him down on a chair. His ankle is still hurting, and there are bruises from where I hit him. He isn't responding to much at the moment. He gazes everywhere but at me, and his hands lie still on his lap.

"Aksel!" She grabs my arm and squeezes. I wince at the pressure. "Talk to me!"

"He fell while we were out," comes my single answer.

"How?" she demands, and she moves to examine her precious boy.

"Dancing after the faeries," I say. I know she doesn't like the answer, but I don't really care. I need to get my bearings. I get a quick bite of bread, then I leave again. We need firewood, the sheep need food, and I can think of half a dozen more chores that need to be done in the yard.

Everything seems to suggest I'm not Aksel but instead someone named Jack. I travel through the Auge with three other people. Teal'c, Carter, and the man who looks like my brother. Daniel. But at the same time, there's my existence here. I don't understand! Yes, there's my life here as a shepherd but...

Who the hell am I?

I muse over this while doing my chores. The more physical work I have to do, the better. The effort works some of the anger out of my system, but the confusion remains. What am I going to do? Even if I don't belong here, the Auge doesn't seem to be working. And Mladen... or Daniel... or whoever he is, is fading in and out.

If we were Jack and Daniel, what happened to us?

While in the shed, I find Mladen missed a few pieces of wood. I sigh at the mess he left behind. He can't do anything properly! I pick them up, stacking them near the door for when I return to the house. I grumble as I work, but I cry out in sudden surprise as an earthquake hits.

I rush to the doorway, pressing my back against the frame as the earth trembles. It's over quickly, but not before things fall in the shed. Helmar, sitting near the house, begins to howl in agitation as everything stills.

"Aksel? Are you well?" Mutti calls from the house.

"I'm fine!" I shout. "I just have to clean up out here!"

And that's when I see something strange.

There's a second level to the shed, where things can be stored. I usually have no trouble reaching it, but someone smaller would need a ladder. There are usually baskets and boxes up there, but wedged in the corner is a bundle of something. I frown and get the ladder. Moments later, I'm at the same level as the shelf.

I pull at the bundle, and it slides out and tumbles down to the floor. Clothes and objects fall past me. I frown, grabbing what's left on the shelf and head back down. The clothes are green, with two black shirts mixed in. I can see a lot of objects lying amid the fabric, and my mind supplies the names without any effort. G.D.O., M.R.E., watches, flashlights, guns, hats... and dogtags.

I pick the last one up. The tiny pieces of metal hanging down remind me of an amulet, but this is even more significant. A piece of information comes into my mind. Daniel doesn't wear dogtags, but Jack does. I do. These are mine. I peer at the symbols inscribed within, and though as Aksel I don't know them, as Jack I certainly do.

Colonel Jack O'Neill.

I hang onto the tags while I pull on the larger of the two jackets, and I put on my boots. That's all I need at the moment. I shove everything else together before grabbing the firewood.

Mutti and I are going to have a word.

She isn't in the house when I arrive, so I assume she's using the outhouse. Mladen is already in bed, and I'm not at all surprised to see the jewel in its usual place on his temple. I stand and watch him from several moments, wondering if I should remove it. I'm really tempted, but I can't until I know I won't hurt him. I get a bowl of stew from its pot over the fire. It should have been served hours ago; the broth is almost evaporated. I spoon it over some bread, and eat while watching my brother sleep.

Is Daniel my brother, too? Some of the details of my life as Jack aren't clear, at least not yet. The answer comes after I work through my surfacing memories. He's a friend and a comrade in arms, but I do think of him as a brother. I find I like that thought. It probably explains why it's so easy to keep an eye on him, as reluctant as I've sometimes been.

And I need to apologize for the bruises.

Mutti enters when I'm almost done with my meal. She looks wan and frail. She slows and actually stops when she sees me. Her dark eyes take in my jacket and the hair I've left uncovered.

"What is this?" she demands.

I scrape the bowl with the rest of my bread. "That's funny. I could ask you the same thing."

"You dare use that tone with me, boy?" she snaps. Two spots of color appear in her drawn cheeks. I've touched a nerve.

"First of all, I'm not your boy, and for that matter, neither is he," I say, and jerk my thumb in Mladen's direction. I mean, Daniel. Oh, this is confusing.

"Aksel?" She was playing dumb, but she was definitely flustered. Jack O'Neill coming from left field, ladies and gentlemen! "What are you talking about? I'm your mother."

"You're half right. You're Aksel's mother." I stare at her, daring her to contradict me. She's glaring at me, the way that makes Aksel cringe, but I'm not about to back down. Especially not when I'm onto the truth. "But you and I both know he's dead. Right?"

"You are him."

"Bullshit. He's been dead five years, and I'm no more him than... than... Helmar is a horse!" Bad analogy, but it had to do. "So tell me, why the whole charade?"

She wraps her robe around herself and moves closer. "Then we must discuss this."

Ah, reason, how sweet it is. I invite her to take an empty chair at the other end of the table, where she customarily sits. She sits for a moment, but she doesn't look very comfortable. There's still enough Aksel left in me to be concerned.

"Can I get you anything?" I ask gently.

She nods. "Something to drink."

"Water?" I push back my chair.

"Something stronger," she says, and gets up again. "I must change into a warmer garment. It's too cold tonight."

I don't say anything as I get out two glasses. I know she keeps some wine around here, and a few moments later, I find a decanter of a pretty powerful something. By the scent alone, it rivals the moonshine on Abydos.

Abydos? I glance at Mladen.

How long was he trying to communicate with me?

When Mutti sits back down, I pour her a glass. She still looks pale. I wonder if I should call her by her name. Sigrada, isn't it? I feel weird even thinking about that, like I was calling my own mother by her given name. I really need to straighten out my head.

She takes a long drink of her wine. I do the same and nearly choke. She doesn't even wince.

"I miss my sons," she says in a hoarse voice. Her eyes are downcast.

I feel a similar pang. How could I have forgotten my Charlie? "I know."

"They were too young to die," she continues.

"So was mine," I say.

She looks curious. "A grandchild?"

Oh, man, how warped is this? If the difference between Jack and Aksel is hard for _me_ , and since she didn't want to know the difference... "In a way. He died. Five years ago."

The interest dies quickly, and she looks away again. "The Lady promised me they would return. And you did."

"No, we didn't," I say as firmly as I can.

"Mladen is sleeping over there, and you are your argumentative self." She says it as though this justifies everything. "Her words are true."

"Or not," I drawl. "I have a head like Swiss cheese, and I'd really like to know how the hell to get out of here."

She gets up again to get something from the pantry. "You are home, Aksel."

"As nice as Oz is, I'm really starting to miss Kansas." I take another careful sip of wine, then stretch. That fire feels nice. "I'm taking him out of here. And his name is Daniel, by the way. As soon as it's morning, we're gone."

She makes a vague noise, not really translatable as either positive or negative. I glance over and see her cutting some bread. I lean back and watch the flames for a few more moments. This is so relaxing, but I don't like the looks of me in a kilt. I'm Irish, not Scottish. I need more of that alcohol, first, but I can get used to that...

Ow!

There's a hot, stabbing pain in my temple!

Oh, I _so_ should've seen that coming... My cup lands on the table, spilling the wine everywhere. I grab onto my head with my hands, and in my right palm, directly where the point of fire is, I can feel something hard embedded in my skull.

Dammit! This feels disturbingly like that Tok'ra mind thing I've had too many occasions to try... No way, that's not what this is... Is it?

I swirl in my chair and face Mutti. She's standing there, looking triumphant like the cat that finally got the canary. Or the canary that got the cat. She's so small, and yet she moves so fast...

No, I don't like it when my head smacks the table like that. Ouch...

What was I going on about? I'm Aksel, and I remember my entire life. My father takes me with him as he tends the flocks, but he dies. I barely remember him... and then Mutti marries again... Mladen is born and becomes the strange little person he is... and then the fire and the flames and...

And I am Jack O'Neill!

No, I'm Aksel. I should go to bed now, and get up early to take the flocks out. I have to start planning the shearing, and the lambing will begin soon...

Hello, Jack O'Neill here. I'm stuck on this planet against my will, and I want to go _home_.

No, this is home. See? Mutti agrees.

And she pulls on my arm. Her voice lulls me. "Come now, dearheart. The wine's made you ill. Did you hurt your head today? That's why you've been confused..."

I let her lead me to my bed. I'm tired...

She gets me out of the jacket, and pulls off the boots. She covers me with the skins, kisses my forehead and leaves me to succumb to slumber. I want to sleep, very badly, but I close my eyes only to feign it. Mutti walks away, and with a soft sigh, she goes to her own bed.

Her breaths quickly even to slumber.

Now's my chance.

I try to pull at the thing in my temple, but I can't work my fingers underneath it. It only makes the pain worse. I stagger out of bed, and go searching for the items she's removed. She's put them by her bed. I can take them easily.

I can't stay here. I have to come back for Mladen. I have to return to rescue Daniel.

Who's Daniel?

The Auge.

The answer is at the Auge.

* * *

I wake at dawn, the first rays of sun hurting my eyes. For a very long moment, I'm disorientated. I'm chilled to the bone, and my head throbs. A lot. And my first thought upon awakening is that I need to remember.

Remember what?

And where am I?

I have the good sense to wince at the clich as I open my eyes. The first thing I see is Helmar's black and white fur snuggled against me. I'm lying curled up on the ground, my back pressed against the Auge's pedestal.

And that leads to my second question. How did I get here?

I plan to figure it out later. The more important issue is to deal with this horrible headache. My fingers feel for the pain, and they find a bump on my temple. I vaguely recall it from last night, and why it's there... Maybe this time I can get it out? I work a fingernail under the edge, and I barely give myself time to prepare for the movement when I tug sharply.

Oh, God...

"Oh, shit!" I moan.

Helmar wakes up and whines. I pat him absently with my empty hand as I seriously consider passing out.

That sounds like a good idea...

The sun is higher in the sky when I wake up again. Helmar is on his feet, nosing my shoulder and barking urgently. I mumble in protest, but slowly sit up. My head doesn't feel too bad, but I didn't plan on getting too excited anytime soon.

Or not.

The Auge is filled with blue water.

Okay, I know it's not water, but I can't seem to come up with a better explanation. No wonder the Auge is thought to be in the middle of a faerie circle if someone happened to come across this before. A wiser side of me says I should keep out of sight, though, especially since I have no idea who's coming through.

Five large ripples disturb the surface. I creep forward to see what's happening, all the while keeping my hand on Helmar. There are people now on the platform: three wear green clothes like my jacket, another wears beige garments, and the fourth is a woman wearing a long cloak. They all look vaguely familiar, but my attention fixes on the two furthest away.

I see a very tall, dark man with a gold symbol on his forehead, and a blonde woman. I know them from my dreams, and their names seem to come from nowhere.

Carter and Teal'c.

Helmar barks and leaps out to meet the arrivals. Everyone jumps, and weapons snap to point at him, but they don't fire. Thankfully. I groan and come forward. Teal'c sees me first, and while nothing about his features actually change, I notice he seems... happy. He taps Carter on the shoulder, and when she sees me, she rushes down the steps to meet me.

And that's about when I realize I don't understand a word they say.

Carter's chattering away like an excited bird, but all I can do is stare blankly at her. True, I get a name here and there, but that's it. It's pretty clear from her words she's been worried, and that she's happy to see me.

"It's good to see you, too," I say, "but I haven't the foggiest idea what the hell you're jammering about."

She does a double-take, and there's a long, awkward silence as she stares at me. She glances back at Teal'c, who looks as puzzled as the rest of us. She finally talks again, this time enunciating slowly and loudly.

I shake my head and shrug.

There's a lot of talking, and then the third guy in green steps forward. He's balding, smaller than I am, and has warm brown eyes. I know him, but I can't put a name to his face. He gives me a quirky smile before speaking in yet another language. This time, I barely understand him, and I get only one word in maybe fifty. He wants to know if I'm okay, and he calls me something odd that I can't translate.

"Never been better," I say, and I give him a thumb's up. Everyone looks relieved at that. Odd. "But why the hell are you all yapping in Greek?"

What happened to English?

Or am I the one who's not using English? Whoa. That's a weird and disconcerting thought...

The lady with the cloak looks annoyed at the others, and she moves past them. I'm ready for another round of a strange language, but I don't know who's more shocked when I actually understand her. I'm pleased and relieved, and the others are just looking at her.

"What is your name?" she asks. She wants an answer, and looks like she'd be happy to throttle you to get it.

Oh, that's a good question. I open my mouth to answer, but I'm assaulted by two answers. Huh? I want to say Aksel, but my lips begin to form Jack. Aksel seems more correct, so that's the one I force myself to say. I get a strange feeling in my chest, as though this isn't right.

"But you hesitate," she says.

"Perceptive," I answer.

"What were you going to say before you stopped yourself?"

"My brother calls me Jack sometimes," I say. "And who the hell are you?"

And why does she care about this?

"I am Freya."

Okay, my memory's getting futzed and I'm still confused over this language issue, but there's no mistaking the alarm bells going off in my head. I'm just not sure why. I just know this lady is nuts. I glance at Teal'c and Carter, especially since I know deep down they share this distrust. If only I could share this with them.

"Right. So why can't I understand them? I know I'm supposed to." I can't help the plaintive note in my voice. "And dare I ask how you know this language?"

Oh, I am so not surprised when she evades my questions ever so neatly. "How much do you know of Jack O'Neill?"

I really need to think about this. So Jack has a surname? Cool. All I have are pieces, a vague recollection of knowing that, but my thoughts and memories are jumbled. "I'm not too sure. It comes and goes."

"Where is Sigrada?" Freya demands.

I stare at her. "How do you know Mutti's name?"

"Please, answer me." She's very firm now, and this must be how Mladen feels when we talk down to him. Damn. "Where is she?"

"At the farm," I say, and I put my hands on my hips. I've had enough of this. "Now, care to share what's happening?"

She glances at the others and says something before addressing me. "Have you seen a small object that is round on one end, and sharp on the other?"

My hand goes to my temple, and I wince at the tender skin. "That thing which looks a jewel?"

"Yes."

I patted my pockets for a second. "It's around here somewhere."

Freya turns to talk to everyone while I go scouting from the thingie. It's not in my pockets, so I must have dropped it after pulling it out. It's on the ground where I spent the night. I collect it carefully. So what is this thing? What has it done to me, and more importantly, what has it done to Mladen?

Carter and that other guy watch me as I give the object to Freya. They definitely don't look too happy. Welcome to my life.

"So what is that?" I demand, and peer at her as she does something to the thing. I feel this need to keep an eye on everything she does.

She doesn't look up at me. "You do not have the necessary knowledge to comprehend."

Oh, that ruffles my feathers. "Give me a try. I may look like a shepherd, but I can be quick."

"Perhaps." She doesn't say anything else. I notice Carter's wandered to Freya's other side, and she's asking a lot of questions the robed woman won't answer, either. Our eyes meet, and I give Carter a smile and shrug. She returns the smile and rolls her eyes at Freya's silence.

I find there are a lot of questions I want to ask her, and I'm frustrated I don't have the language to communicate. Too bad Daniel isn't here to bridge the gap.

I blink. The name brings to mind something that happened last night. I argued with Mutti, and the name Daniel was brought up. Why? Because... Mladen called himself Daniel. But who is Daniel? Carter and Teal'c would know. I just lack the vocabulary to ask them.

"Are you done?" I ask Freya. It's been minutes since she started tinkering with the doodad. I'm getting impatient, and so is everyone else. How annoying. I'm sure this is very typical for her. That other guy, too, in the beige. He's like her, even though he's keeping quiet. I think he's scared of Teal'c. Wise guy.

"I believe I am," she says. She turns to face me, and that blasted thing is pointed business-end at me. Crap. "Please hold still."

All three of my green-garbed people break out into loud protests, and I look non-too-favorably at the advancing point. "Uh, is that really necessary?"

"It is," she says.

"Huh. Right." I bite my lip. "What are you going to do?"

"Ease your confusion."

"Wouldn't a pill be easier?" I say, and I'm surprised the moment the words leave my lips. What the hell is a pill? I also want to tell her to take one.

"No." And she aims right for the sore temple.

I duck slightly. "Do me a favor?"

I'm so lucky she paused. "Yes?"

"Other side," I say, and I turn my head to present it to her. I catch Carter's gaze as the doodad progressed. Her blue eyes are huge in apprehension. I know that look. And right behind her, Teal'c's worried, not that anyone else would know. Stoic, worried, it's the same thing. I give them both a wan smile as the pointy end begins to penetrate my skin.

Ow!

Freya's a sadist! Does she _have_ to draw this out so long? My face is scrunched up, and my jaw is clenched. Ouch! My knees decide to sit this round out, and I begin to descend butt-first to the ground. The world darkens.

There are two sets of hands grasping my arms. They save me from an undignified landing. Teal'c and the other guy. Ferretti? Hey, nice to see you... and the other you, too...

"...sir? Sir! Teal'c, is he okay?"

"He is only stunned, Major Carter."

"Crap, O'Neill, did you put on weight while hanging around the boonies?"

They set me down on the bottom step leading to the Auge. No, the Stargate. That's the Stargate I've been eyeing. Wow, I'm dizzy... Carter's hands are on my forehead, and they're cold. I shake them off but she wins this round.

"Colonel O'Neill?" she asks. "Can you understand me? Are you all right?"

"Give me a minute..." I moan.

"Hey! About time!" Ferretti crows, and he smacks my shoulder in triumph.

"O'Neill, where is Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asks, cutting short the victory.

What victory? This is worse than a hangover. I moan and clutch my poor aching head. But his words finally sink through the layers of dizziness and pain. I try to sit up straight, but I find hanging my head around the same level as my knees is a much nicer position.

"Would someone mind explaining to me what the hell just happened?" I mumble. Helping the confusion, huh? Bullshit. I'm just as confused as before, and maybe I'm even more muddled. Okay, it's damn clear now I'm Jack O'Neill, Colonel, USAF, but... I'm still Aksel. I have his memories, thoughts and dreams.

And his worries, too, about the sheep, his mother, and his brother.

Mladen.

Daniel.

* * *

"How much do you remember about the mission?" Carter asks.

I can't move my head so I don't. "We came, we saw..."

"Hell of a way to conquer," Ferretti pipes up. "You've been busy?"

"Mind out of the gutter, Lou," I groan, and I just know he's thinking of dirty Scotsmen jokes. I'll throttle him once we get home. Pervert. "The answer, Carter, is I have a basic memory. You hurt your ankle and Teal'c took you back. How is it by the way?"

She smiles. "I'm fine, sir. Thanks for asking. I'll be brief. The computer succeeded in reaching P6W877 due to the cold-dialing program. In the time between coming home and dialing back to check your progress, this Stargate went off-line again."

"And we were stuck." I grimace, but a memory came to mind. "Ml... I mean, Daniel tried to dial out once, but the Stargate didn't work."

"I noted the ground here is seismically unstable," Carter nods. " My working theory at the moment is every time there's an earthquake or another seismic event, the Stargate is shifted just enough to either impede or allow a wormhole to be established."

"Oh." My mind tries to process the information.

"You have been here for nearly a month, O'Neill," Teal'c tells me.

"A month?" I frown. "That's... a lot of time."

"We were about to send a ship when the Stargate realigned," comes a new voice. It's the other guy. He's a Tok'ra we've met once or twice. Aldwin, I think. The last time we saw him he as trying to poke one of those damned memory devices into Sha're's kid. "It is good to see you, Colonel O'Neill."

"Yeah. Charmed." My words are distracted. My mind is lingering on my previous thought. Memory device? I frown and touch the object still located in my temple. Feels like one. Crap. I finally lift my head and the first person I see is Freya. "Oh, Freya...?"

Is she always this imperious? Must be the snake in her head. My lingering Aksel thoughts recoil at the thought of what that means, but I'm still not surprised at all. There's something fishy in Denmark. To be honest, it's a little more like being snaky at the Auge...

"What is this?" I continue, and I keep my hand on the smooth, gem-like surface. Like there's a doubt what I'm referring to?

A duck of the head, and I know it's the snake. Anise. Oh, have I missed you. Not.

"A short-lived experiment," she says. "I uncovered technology that boasted to appropriate the entire contents of a living being's personality. I sought to learn this technology so we could use it. I combined what I learned with our current memory devices."

Carter has her gaze fixed on my head. I know the look in her eyes. I just hope the doodad's out of my head before she starts to analyze it. "How did it get here?"

"Yeah, I really want to know that bit," I say.

There's a long pause. "The devices were not as effective as I had hoped. Instead of allowing the user to access the content of the memories at will, the memories instead overwhelmed the mind. I deemed them a failure."

"That doesn't answer the question, though," Carter says.

"Damn right." I get up and walk toward Anise. "You're the Lady, aren't you? Sigrada's Lady who said her dead sons would return."

She doesn't flinch, even when I'm glowering down at her. "I am."

"My curse on you and ruin to you, you lying and thieving rascal," I growl.

"Sir?" Carter asks, even as Anise - or was it Freya? - looks away. That's about when I realize I just uttered those words in Aksel's language. Cool.

"Don't worry," I say to her. I know the snake heard me, and that's good enough for me. "You messed with a grieving woman's mind, Anise? Gave her hope for something that would never come? That's the sickest thing I've ever heard!"

She doesn't answer me. Her blue eyes meet mine. She wasn't going to back down from what I challenged.

"Where is Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asks yet again. He's getting impatient with me, I know. To him, the mission is only halfway over. "We cannot return until we have located him."

"I know!" I snapped at him, but my gaze is fixed on Anise. "Can you fix Daniel? The way you did me?"

"You fought the battle with the memories implanted in your mind," she says. "Was Daniel Jackson equally successful?"

I stop. I don't know how to answer. All the little hints now and again that Mladen wasn't himself, with the drawings and the words. But when we were here, and he dialed the Stargate, Mladen was there at the end. Not Daniel. What does that mean?

"If he wasn't successful?" I ask. "What then?"

"Then Daniel Jackson will be forever lost."

* * *

I'm having a hard time explaining to them what's happened to Daniel. That may be due to me finding myself wanting to strangle Anise because of what she said. That has to wait. We're going back to the farm to get Daniel, but I want everyone prepared for what we'll find when we see Mladen.

And I think that everyone includes me, too.

Anise's words worry me. What the hell does she mean, Daniel might be lost? What kind of crap is that? She isn't about to elaborate. Whatever. We'll figure it out. I'm not leaving Daniel behind, and I'll make sure Anise does everything possible to help him with that doodad. And even if it doesn't work, Carter will put her best effort into fixing the problem.

Easy.

But first, the explanation. Guys, Daniel doesn't know English anymore, and he's very different. His name is now Mladen. I tell them this, and there are varying reactions. Ferretti's eyebrows get higher and higher, and Teal'c seems accepting. Carter's worried again. The two Tok'ra, though? I don't know about them. Who knows?

Carter rambles on about the different memory devices we've seen over the years. For a few minutes, I wish I didn't understand English again. But she has interesting points, and she's trying to understand what it is Daniel and I have been exposed to. What she's interested in is who we were, or rather, who I was and who Daniel is.

"Two brothers," I say. "They were shepherds. Five years ago, Jaffa came through and razed the village. Mladen and Aksel were caught in it."

"So, how did Anise get the memories?" Carter wants to know. "They died, and... what?"

I have to shrug. "I have no idea. You'd have to ask the lady, and she's not talking."

We get to the farm a few minutes later. Helmar barks and runs ahead to meet the lone figure sitting on the front step. It's Mladen, and he's not wearing his jacket against the chill of the morning. Helmar is resting against his legs, providing a little extra warmth but not much. I don't like what I'm seeing, and I glance back at my companions.

"Guys? Let me go ahead."

But Carter has her eyes set on Mladen. "I can see Daniel, sir!"

"Yeah, I know, but..." I sigh. "Please, just... hang back for a minute. I don't want to scare him."

They agree. I jog ahead and go into the yard. Mladen doesn't look up until Helmar barks when I'm a few feet away from them. His blue eyes are large and reddened, and his face is pale. I quickly search his face, hoping to catch a glimpse of Daniel. There isn't a thing to suggest anything of Daniel's personality remains. All I see is Mladen.

"Aksel!" He jumps up and flings his arms around my neck. He's trying not to cry, but he's going to give in soon enough.

"Hey," I say, as soothingly possible. I hear footsteps coming behind me, crunching on the gravel. I want to look at them, particularly at Carter and Teal'c. They're surprised to see this, I know. The Daniel they know would never act like this. "What's wrong?"

"Mutti won't wake up," he says. His voice is muffled against my shoulder.

"What do you mean, she won't wake up?"

"She's sleeping." A little sob escapes him. "I waited for you. You took so long. Why weren't you here when I woke up?"

"I had to go out," I tell him. I squeeze him tightly. He's trembling, and I don't like that. "I wanted to check some things. I'm back, now."

"Make her wake up?" he asks.

"I'll go in and check on her. She was tired last night, Mladen." I pull back to smile at him. "But I want you stay out here with our guests, okay?"

He looks startled, and his eyes dart to peer at the group. He ducks his head and shields himself from the strangers behind me. I roll my eyes at his antics.

"Mladen, they're not going to hurt you," I tell him, though to be honest, by the wary looks he's giving Anise, I think he has the right idea. "That's Teal'c, Carter, Ferretti, Aldwin and Anise."

He gives them a little smile and a half-hearted wave. "Hello."

"Colonel?" Carter asks, and it takes me a long moment to switch my brain from whatever the heck this language is to English. Ow. I'm way too rusty with this language thing. How does Daniel do that, with twenty-three, no less? "What's he saying?"

I put my arm around Mladen's shoulders and steer him toward everyone. "Our mo- I mean, Mladen and Aksel's mother is ill. I'm going to go check on her. Carter, would you mind coming in with me?"

"Of course, sir." She gives Mladen a broad smile that has him smiling and blushing slightly. Wow. He's still a flirt. "It's okay. Your mother will be okay."

Mladen looks at me blankly.

I translate.

He beams at her. "I like her, Aksel."

"She has her moments," I say. I indicate Teal'c. "He's going to keep an eye on you while I go in to see Mutti."

He's in awe of the big guy, but when his eyes fix on Teal'c's tattoo, I can feel him trying to move away. "He's a bad one!"

"No, no!" I say, trying to hold him fast. "Teal'c's a good guy!"

"Bad!" he cries. "Like the ones who killed you!"

What?

I lose my grip on Mladen in my surprise. I can't believe what I just heard. Mladen remembers his brother dying? I'm delighted! I mean, nasty and confusing as it is for him, does this mean there's hope for Daniel?

He backs away from us. I know he wants to be in the safety of the house. I take a few steps after him, he's easy to grab hold of again. I have his hand gripped tightly in mine. He looks at me, wide-eyed, then his gaze darts to Teal'c.

"He's not going to hurt us," I say, as gently and calmly as I can. "He's a friend."

"Friend?" he repeats dully, like he wants to believe me, but his memories tell him I'm wrong.

"A very good friend." I tug him closer again. "He's kind of like a Jack. Remember that word? Jack."

But he doesn't know. His eyes are blank, no recognition at that phrase. I let out a long sigh and try to come up with something that will convince him. I'm terrified I'll come up blank.

"Okay. If he tries to hurt you, Helmar will bite him." I whistle for our dog to come, and he trots up, panting happily. I take Mladen's free hand and put it on Helmar's head. "See? He'll guard you."

My brother nods, and I see I'll have a hard time shaking myself out of that habit. He's not my brother. I ruffle Mladen's hair anyway, and give Teal'c a wan smile. I address him in English. "He's skittish, but he should be fine. Just take it easy, and let him get used to you guys."

Ferretti can't take his eyes off Daniel, just like everyone else. "Don't you mean we should get used to him?"

"Isn't that the same thing?" I ask.

Carter and I finally head for the door, but we're not even at the threshold yet when I realize Anise is following us. I stop and turn to stare at her. I don't say anything. I'm not about to let her in. Sigrada might not be my real mother, but I want to give her the best care we can without having an annoying Tok'ra underfoot.

"Allow me to join you," she says.

"Why?" I demand.

"I know Sigrada."

"Big whoop. Add Elvis and Marilyn Monroe to your list and I might be a little more impressed," I tell her, and I keep myself in her path. "Stay outside, Anise."

But it's Freya who's talking. "Colonel O'Neill, I may be able to assist."

I glance at Carter. "We can handle it, thank you very much."

"I insist on being allowed to enter!" she says, and look! She's getting flustered.

"Tough. Wait outside with Teal'c and Mladen."

Ye gods, I hate the flashing eyes. It feels like a lifetime since I've seen a pair go like that, but that inner light trick is downright creepy. I wonder what kinds of myths the local folks have about that nasty feature? I shouldn't worry, though, because I've got a pissy snake on my hands.

"We do not require your permission, O'Neill, whether it is as yourself or as Sigrada's son," Anise says, and I can just feel the permafrost coating her words. "Sigrada is our friend, both of myself and Freya. I want to see her!"

She pushes past me, and my side bangs against the doorframe. I groan, rubbing the offended spot as Carter passes. She gives me a sideways look. "Are you okay, sir?"

"Peachy," I mutter.

"Do you have any idea what she means by being this woman's friend?" she asks.

"Not really," I say, and straighten up. "But I intend to find out."

There's no fire, and the only light comes through the curtained windows. Carter goes about tending to those tasks, and I head for the only occupied bed. Anise is perched on the edge, and she's touching Sigrada. I loom up beside her.

"Well?" I try to make it clear I'm not impressed with her display.

"She is unconscious," she tells me. She moves her hand across Sigrada's forehead. She mustn't like something, because she starts to rummage through a bag buried under her cloak's volumes. I get a glimpse of a typically low bust-line before the material falls back. "She is not fevered, but I fear she is very ill."

"Well, she hasn't been feeling well lately," I offer. "She's alive, though?"

"Yes." She actually bites her lip. "I fear she may have had a stroke."

"Why?" I ran through the usual symptoms in my head. I don't remember her having any dizziness, confusion or headaches. And unfortunately, delusion of this magnitude doesn't really account for a sign of stroke.

"I have seen this before," Freya speaks up. "Before I joined with Anise, I worked as a healer, and I saw many cases similar to this."

"I guess I have no choice but to trust your judgment." I reach past her to pull the covers up to Sigrada's shoulders. The old woman looks fragile and tired. "Are you going to tell me why you let this happen?"

"It is not my fault she is ill, O'Neill," she snaps. "Humans become frail as they age. I could not prevent something like this."

I roll my eyes. "That's not what I meant. Why did you let her do this? Why did you give her those things and give her the false hope her sons could come back?"

"She is my friend," she says, looking away.

And I leave it like that. I know I won't get anything more.

* * *

I'm not sure what I should do. I really want to go home, but I don't want to leave Sigrada like this. I still feel an irrational need to see this through to the end. We also have to help Daniel, preferably before we go, but with Anise preoccupied at Sigrada's bedside, we aren't exactly going anywhere soon.

So I deal with Mladen in the meantime. I should get him out of the cold and get some food in him. I find some cheese and bread, setting it on the table. Carter looks at me as I go, and I know she's giving me a weird look.

"Breakfast," I say. "I haven't eaten yet, and neither has he. Try some of that bread. Tastes the way my grandmother's used to when I was a kid."

"Sir..." She's got that expression, the one that says she doesn't like what she's going to say, but that's the way the rules of astrophysics work and there's nothing we can do so let's just hang around and wait for the end of the world to happen. "About Daniel...?"

I sigh. Big surprise she'll want to discuss him. "Yeah, Carter?"

"I don't see Daniel at all in... what's his name? Mladen?" She waits for me to nod. "I mean, I do, but..."

"I think I know what you mean." I cut a few slices of cheese and hand one to her. "He's got to be in there, somewhere."

"But Anise said -"

"Screw that," I hiss, then glance over at the topic of our current thread of conversation. Luckily she was solely fixed on Sigrada.

"But sir, what if she's right?" she continues, ignoring my outburst. "I mean, I want Daniel back as much as you and Teal'c do, but what happens if this doesn't work? From what Anise was saying, this device introduces memories that eventually either wipe out or conflict with the original memories of the host."

"Right..." I wait for her to get to the point, even though I don't want to hear it. "Daniel's probably the strongest one of us. He'll fight this."

"Colonel, how many times were you exposed to this device?" she asks.

I have to think about this. Last night, which really screwed up my head, and how many times before? Probably only the first time that introduced Aksel into my head. Is that what the fever was? I remember being so confused. Might that have been the memory thing? "Twice, I think."

"And what about Daniel? How many times did he have it?"

Oy. I wince. "More than twice. Maybe as many as five times. He kept slipping out of himself. Something from Daniel would slip, and then Mutti would get wind of it and -"

She doesn't let me continue, even though I'm about ready to start the self-flagellation. How many times did I tell her I saw something weird that Mladen was doing? His silly drawings and the _th_ he shouldn't have known? Did I contribute to the loss of my friend?

"Daniel probably didn't meld right away with Mladen's personality," she says. "I mean, look at him. Mladen is, to put it lightly, simple. Daniel isn't."

"Like fitting a circle into a square peg," I agree. "And I suppose I had an easier time?"

"I would assume so. You were spared the repeated exposure Daniel couldn't avoid, and you were able to work through a lot of the conditioning on your own. Am I right, sir?"

I shake my head. "Daniel helped, even though I didn't know better at the time."

"Then we just have to hope the multiple treatments weren't enough to totally wipe Daniel out." She sighs. "And from the way things look at the moment?"

"Easy on the pessimism," I say, my voice a little sharper than I mean it to be. "Sorry, Carter. Low blood sugar. It's been a busy morning."

She gives a little smile. "Of course, sir."

I leave her at the table and head for the front door. Mladen is sitting between Teal'c and Ferretti, and even though there's a language barrier, they look like they're having fun. For a few moments, I wonder who's having the most fun. Ferretti's gone to town with the tricks he says he's perfected with his nieces and nephews, and both Mladen and Teal'c are staring at him. Whether in awe or in alarm, I can't really say.

"And see? Look at this," Ferretti says, and reaches behind Mladen's ear. A coin has mysteriously appeared. "What else do you have in those ears of yours?"

Daniel would kill him if he knew. I roll my eyes and stride out to meet them.

"You held the coin between your fingers," Teal'c says, but he's got that look which says he's not entirely sure how it was done.

"Maybe, maybe not," Ferretti replies, and puts the coin in Mladen's outstretched palm. "Don't spoil it for him, though."

Teal'c's big hand is resting on Mladen's shoulder, and doesn't look like he's about to let him go. "He does not understand us, Major Ferretti."

"Careful, big guy," I say, "or else Ferretti's going to steal your nose."

The eyebrow arches way up. "I do not see how this is possible."

"O'Neill!" Ferretti scoffs. "Four years and you haven't taught him basic party tricks? You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Bite me," I smile, and I reach out to steal Lou's nose. Oh, a classic. I look at my thumb in its short-lived role, and show it to Mladen. "See that? That's Ferretti's nose."

Mladen looks at it. "That's your thumb, Aksel."

"Right, and you can finish looking at your coin after you've eaten." I help him up and steer him toward the house. I call back to the guys in English. "Come join us."

I don't wait to see if they're following. I've got my hands full with Mladen. He wants to head everywhere else but the house. He glances back at me once or twice. "Is Mutti okay?"

I wonder for a moment about what I should say. I have to choose my words carefully. I know he'll be devastated if he finds out she's not doing well at all. I think I might hold back the truth until later, after we've tried to get Daniel back.

If it works...

Carter gives Mladen a big smile as we enter. He's still acting shy around her, but I'm sure he'll get over it soon enough. I set him at his usual spot and give him his breakfast. Anise is still preoccupied with Sigrada, and doesn't say anything to us. Mladen watches her as he picks at his meal, and finally turns his blue eyes to me.

"Why is she sitting with Mutti?" he asks.

"She's Mutti's friend," I tell him.

"Why haven't we seen her before?"

I shrug. "She hasn't been around for a long time."

"I have been away," Anise says, glancing back at Mladen. I nearly drop my food, and Carter looks startled, too. "I travel around to many different places."

"Aksel would like to do that," he says, nodding, "but he has to stay with the sheep."

Not for much longer. Yes!

And the conversation went downhill from there. With Ferretti's cheap potshots, Mladen too busy eating, and the rest of us staring at Anise's back, we didn't say too much. Snakegirl finally pulled herself away and walked to stand by the table. She watched Mladen for several long moments, then looked directly at me.

"I require the device used on him," she said.

I rolled my eyes. "Sigrada didn't want us to know she was doing this to us. You think I actually know where she kept her tricks?"

"She keeps her herbs and tinctures near the bread," she says. "She also keeps her treasured items there. Perhaps that is where second device is located?"

I have to stare at her. "Just how long have you known her? I mean, I have Aksel's memories, and even he didn't know that."

"For many years, O'Neill," she says. "Far too many."

And she leaves it like that yet again. I let out an annoyed sigh. Wonderful. This keeps on getting all the more clearer as it goes on, like a stick stirring muddy water. But we need to get Daniel back to his normal condition, so I go exploring. What I find in the cabinet is everything but the annoying device. Scraps of cloth, some of them obviously child-sized, are kept in a satchel. I don't bother too much with those, and I find several bags of herbs, more gems and stones, but no memory doodad.

"It's not here," I finally pronounce.

"But it must be somewhere here," she says. "We must search."

I glance around the house. Where else would she put it? I try to remember her actions the night before, when she put the device in my head. She was at the pantry, true, but where else might she have gone? I wasn't looking, too busy being impressed with my tardy recollection more than anything else.

"What are you looking for?" Mladen asks. He's been watching everything.

"Something of Mutti's," I say.

"What?"

"A... little metal thing that looks like a gem," I tell him. I can't think of anything more technical than those vague terms. He probably wouldn't understand if I tried to be more thorough. "We can't find it right now."

He doesn't say anything as I start looking through everything. Carter gets up to help. Ferretti, Teal'c and Aldwin aren't too much of a help, but by staying in one place, they're keeping out of the way. For that, I'm thankful. But after five minutes, we're coming up empty handed, and there's dread building in my stomach.

What do we do if the device is gone?

I go back to the pantry. Maybe I missed it the first time? But Mladen is already there, and he smiles at me as I approach. I give him a weird look. "What?"

He reaches out with his hand, and touches my temple. "You want this?"

I'd forgotten about mine. I reached up to cover his fingers with my hand. I gave him a little smile. Close, but no cigar. "This is mine, Mladen. You have one, too, but we can't find it right now."

He's watching me, and I'm surprised at the intensity of his gaze. He starts to move, and begins tugging me across the room to his bed. I follow him, wondering what he's doing.

"This is mine," he finally says, as he kneels on the skins and rummages beneath them. He comes up with a small sack I vaguely remember Mutti giving him. There are river stones and a piece of bark amid the jumbled objects that he dumps out, but the item that catches my eye is the device. "I hid it. Mutti left it in."

I reach out to get it, and I call back to Carter and the rest. "We have it!"

"Why do you want it, Aksel?" he asks. He looks worried, and he draws his knees up to his chest. "It hurts when Mutti puts in on."

"I know, but we need to use it one more time."

"No!" The strength of his cry draws everyone's attention, including Anise's. "Don't want it!"

"Mladen, we need it one more time," I insist.

His fist closes around it. "No more!"

"We require it," Anise says. "Give it to your brother."

"No," he whispers, and his eyes fix on my gaze. "Don't want to lose..."

"Lose what?" I ask, and I risk the chance to touch him. His shoulder is tense, and he's trembling from frustration. "This is going to help you. I promise."

He shakes his head. "I don't want to forget Daniel."

* * *

Anise plays with the device once I get it from Mladen's hands. It took me several long minutes to convince him I really needed it, but it was only after I promised I wouldn't let him lose Daniel that he finally handed it over. He wouldn't say anything more about Daniel, so I don't know exactly what he means. He's also starting to get jumpy with everyone staring at him after he said Daniel.

I tell Teal'c, Ferretti and Aldwin to hang out in the yard. Mladen doesn't seem to mind Carter's presence, and he actually calms down when she takes his hand. I need all the help I can get. When Anise comes at him with the memory device, I think it's going to be a fight.

I can't even tell what Anise is doing. A few moments later, she gets up to head over to us. We're still on Mladen's bed, and he starts pulling back as she approaches. His eyes are fixed on the device, and get wider and wider as she gets closer. I tighten my grip, but he's pulling so hard it's getting to be a strain. I can see Carter's face redden with effort, but somehow we keep him in place.

"No!" he cries, shaking his head from side to side. "Aksel, please!"

"Stay still, dammit!" I grunt. I don't want to leave bruises, but if he doesn't stop fighting, I'll have no choice. "This is for your own good!"

"Don't want it!" he insists, and tries jerking back. Carter and I manage to hang on. I'm just glad he's not Daniel right now, because he's finally gotten good at the self defense moves. The last thing I want is an elbow to the gut that's deliberately placed. Have you seen the elbows on him? Bony and sharp!

"Well, you're going to get it!"

"Sir!" The strain is loud and clear in Carter's voice. "I can't hold on much longer!"

"Anise, do it now!" I shout.

She shakes her head. "I cannot! You must keep him still!"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" I nearly lose my grip as Mladen twists. I don't hesitate to throw myself over him. He's finally pinned by squirming. I grab his chin and force him to look at me. "Come on, Daniel! Look at me!"

His eyes are squeezed shut, with tears running down his reddened cheeks. "No... Going to lose..."

"Look at me!" And this time I shake him. His eyes snap open, and for just a moment, I think I see Daniel. Yes! I maintain my grip and force him to keep eye contact. "Trust me! You're not going to lose! You are going to win! But you have to _keep still_ to make it work!"

"No..." comes the protest, but it's soft.

"I'll be here the entire time," I tell him, "but you need to trust me. You know you can. Trust me."

The fight goes out of him. He collapses to the skins, and I end up sprawled over him. His eyes are closed again, with the tears still rolling down his cheeks. He gasps for breath, more terrified than I've ever seen him, as either Mladen or Daniel.

"Sir..." Carter says, hushed and barely audible over Mladen's harsh breathing.

"Do it," Mladen whispers.

"Anise, now!" I snap at the Tok'ra. I grab his hand and hold as tightly as I can without hurting him. Carter does the same with his other hand.

Anise leans down and pushes in the device with the same flare as a med student with a needle. Mladen cries out, and my hand is nearly crushed. Carter winces, her eyes squeezed tightly as she tries to ride out the pain. I should be so lucky, but I can't look away.

Mladen's eyes snap open a moment later. His eyes are wild, an electric blue as he darts his gaze around him. But I don't think he sees anything. He's lost and ungrounded. His breaths are hitched, and I think I see a new round of tears beginning.

"Is it working?" Carter asks me.

His eyes fix on her for a moment, widening until the blue is surrounded by red-tinged whites. She holds his gaze, and then he forces his lips to move.

"Sam?"

She brightens and leans closer. A smile warms her face. "Hey, Daniel..."

"Hello..." He glances over at me, and this time he smiles. "Jack."

"Good to see you." I indulge in ruffling his hair. "How are you?"

"Confused," he says, and his words begin to slur slightly. "Tired. Head hurts..."

"I know. Probably a big one, huh? Go ahead and take a nap," I tell him. "We've got all the time in the world."

"Okay..."

His eyes drift shut. I can't help myself, and I cup his cheek with my palm. He lets out a little sigh and tilts his face into it. I keep still, not saying a word as I glance at Carter. She has Daniel's hand firmly between hers, and she's not about to let go.

I can finally relax.

* * *

We let Daniel sleep. He's curled on his side, covered by the skins and dead to the world. Carter won't leave him, but I finally pull myself away. We won't wake him up until he's ready.

I want to keep myself busy. I'll go feed the sheep. Poor little critters. What's going to happen to them?

But I check on Sigrada before I go. Anise is by her side again. She's getting worse, and she still hasn't regained consciousness. It probably won't be long before she slips away. I'll see how she's doing later.

"O'Neill!" Teal'c is waiting outside by the door. He's worried. "How is Daniel Jackson?"

Behind him, Ferretti and Aldwin stop playing with Helmar to pay attention. They're all so serious! I grin at them.

"We've got him back!" I cheer.

"Yes!" Lou yells, his fist punching the air in victory. Helmar barks in agreement, running around him and Aldwin.

"Ferretti, you should head back to the Stargate and let Hammond know what's been happening," I tell him. "Send him my regards. We'll be back as soon as Daniel's able to travel."

He gives me a sloppy salute in true form. "See you when you get back, Colonel."

"I will hold vigil over Daniel Jackson," Teal'c says, and a second later, he's back inside.

Just me and Aldwin. We look at each other for a few moments, then I incline my head over to the sheep pen. "I'm going to feed the wee beasties. Mind lending a hand?"

"I would enjoy assisting you," he says. "It has been a long time since I worked with livestock."

"Oh?" I lead him over to where the feed is kept. "Do tell?"

"I lived on a world similar to this before I joined the Tok'ra," he says, and starts working without any instruction. "I spent my childhood working with animals before the Goa'uld arrived."

"What happened?" I ask.

He doesn't say anything for several long moments. "My story is no different from thousands of others. We came under attack. Our world was simply the front line of a battle between Ra and Bastet. My people worshipped the Cat, and for that reason, Ra's Jaffa slaughtered most of the village. I was injured and my symbiote discovered me in time."

"Do you miss it?" I watch him for a few moments. Yeah, I'm oddly serious. Usually I'd be mouthing off, but I don't really feel the need to right now. "Your old life, I mean?"

"There are times I do," he says. "The simple life, when all I needed to worry about was the weather and finding a wife. Well, I guess it's not simple, but when I look back on it, it seems so..."

"Ideal?" I offer.

"Yes. I sometimes regret joining the Tok'ra, but then I think about our cause. One day, lives will not be destroyed on the whim of a false god." He bites his lower lip. "And then, once I remember that, I regain the will to continue the fight."

"I know what you mean," I say. "Not the being snaked part, but the whole... remembering why we fight thing."

"One day the Goa'uld will fall," he says, "and that will be a fine day."

"So why are you here?" I ask. I'm just full of questions today. "No Goa'uld here."

He glances back at the house, as though checking to make sure we're still alone. "I was sent here at the request of the Council."

"Oh?" This has to be _good_. I hope.

"After recent events with Anise's experiments, there have been many questions about her prior work." He makes a face. "Many questions are about resources and whether she has been wasting them. Major Carter contacted me several weeks ago about the possibly of using a ship to rescue you and Dr. Jackson from this world. When Anise learned the co-ordinates, she became very excited and insisted on accompanying me here."

"Because of Sigrada and those... things." It's my turn for the face. "And why Anise gave them to her?"

"I would like the answer to that, too," he says. "She said the technology wasn't working, and yet she gave them to her."

"Recycling," I quip. "Complete with recycled memories. You've got a great bargain right there."

He doesn't look too impressed. I guess it's pretty clear the Council really is wondering what Anise is up to. She has the reputation of being a mad scientist with a really bad taste in clothes, but recent shenanigans must have raised eyebrows among the Tok'ra. Oh, to be a fly on the wall during those meetings...

We don't say too much for the remainder of the feeding. I think I've annoyed Aldwin, like usual. Oh, well. I have more important things to worry about. I start to ignore him completely when he grabs my shoulder.

"Someone approaches," he says.

He's pointing in the direction of the village. I stop shoveling manure to look. Someone's riding on a horse, cloaked, and heading toward our farm. I set the shovel aside to go meet them. I can count the people on one hand who would come visit, but even so, I can't help smiling when I recognize Idalea.

Oh, boy. What's the etiquette to break off an engagement when you find out you're not really the same guy? Is there even a proper thing to do?

I guess I get to invent one. That happens a lot in my line of work.

"Welcome to the funny farm!" I greet her with a smile.

She slows her horse to a trot as soon as she's close and gives me a strange look and tilts her head. "I don't see what's humorous, though if you're shoveling manure, you can stay right where you are. You stink, shepherd boy."

The Aksel in me wants to swing her down from the horse and give her a big hug just to spite her in good humor. But now, I take hold of the reins to lead her to the farm.

"What's wrong?" she asks almost immediately. "You're acting stranger than usual."

"A few things have come up," I say.

"What kinds of things?" When we reach the yard, she hops down and finally gives me a hug. She smells of baked bread and fresh air. My stomach gurgles. She pats it with a laugh. "And I don't suppose your hunger is part of it?"

"Very funny."

"I do try and often succeed," she teases. Her eyes are sparkling, and I really do feel bad I've got to let her down like this. "You're lucky I brought you a few things. You said your Mutti was ill yesterday, so I thought bringing some bread and other things might help out. And I do have a few things for Mladen, so you can't have them."

I have to roll my eyes. "Engaged but courting the younger brother. Not too swift, there."

"I think he's a sweetheart, unlike you," she retorts. She reaches to take my hand, leading me along with her horse toward the house. "Now what's bothering you?"

"I'll explain inside the house," I say, and gesture to the doorway once the horse is tied up. She'll need to be sitting for some of this. "Mladen and the others are in there."

"What others?" she asks.

"Friends." I pause for a moment, not sure how I should say anything of this. "Jack's friends."

She watches me for several long moments, a serious expression replacing the gaiety she'd had before. She bites her lower lip, then nods and tugs me forward like a stubborn animal. "Let's go inside."

Everyone looks up as we enter, and I'm not surprised when all eyes fix on Idalea. Carter, still holding vigil by the bed with Teal'c, starts to rise to greet me. I wave her back. I address them in English, still holding Idalea's hand as I speak.

"Guys, this is Idalea. A... friend." Yeah, that summarizes it not so neatly. I avoid any further comments on that thought by quickly switching languages and introducing everyone, snakes and kids alike.

"Is Mladen unwell?" Idalea asks when we're through and we've all nodded to each other on cue. She sets down her bags and heads for the bed. Carter is visibly bristling with sisterly protection. Idalea just stares at her for several long moments. "Why does she look at me like that?"

"Separation anxiety." But my joke falls flat. Idalea doesn't know the term, and Carter doesn't understand the jibe anyway. I sigh. "She's worried about him. She's missed us."

"Tell her I just want to see how he's doing." Idalea gives Carter a smile, clearly trying to make her at ease. "I don't bite."

"She bites back. Hard." I turn to Carter, and she relaxes minutely when I translate.

But when she answers, she's looking only at me. "He's been dreaming, sir. A lot. He's mumbled a few things, but most of the words are in that language."

"As long as he's not flailing about," I mutter.

"Who is she, really, sir?" Carter asks. She does look ready to gnash her teeth on Idalea's hand, especially when she reaches out to smooth Daniel's bangs from his forehead. For the moment, she's keeping herself in check.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said." I glance at Teal'c, who's taking the whole thing in silently, like usual. But he has that eyebrow nearly at the same level as his non-existent hairline. "Oh, not you, too. Busy bodies."

"You're the one who's had the fun for the past month, Colonel," Carter teases.

"Indeed. I would have gladly watched your sheep while you took my place seeking help to rescue you, O'Neill."

"Right." I start to pull Idalea from their corrupting presence. "Keep up with the vigilant vigil, kids. I'll be... over there."

We head over to the table, and for the first time, Idalea seems to notice Sigrada's lying on the other occupied bed. The blankets draped over her hid her body from view. She glances at me with wide eyes. "She is still ill, as well?"

"Getting worse," I say. I settle down in one of the chairs. "Idalea, I know the truth, now."

"And what is it?" she asks. She sits across from me and watches me carefully. "I know already we're not going to be married. You don't belong here. You truly are called Jack, not Aksel. Am I right?"

"For starters. Look, as soon as... well, as soon as things have cleared up, we're shipping out."

She frowns at the way the phrase translates. I never was good with expressions and the like in other languages. My idea of foreign languages is the swears and curses. So I've basically just told her we're "boating away." Great. "Down the river, do you mean?"

"Uh, not exactly. The Auge, that's what we used to get here, but we actually call it a Stargate."

A little smile turns up her lips. "A door to the ancestors who live in the skies? You're a necromancer?"

"A what?" Oh, if only to have the unlimited vocabulary of Daniel Jackson at my disposal. "What?"

"You speak with the dead." I just stare at her in disbelief, and she laughs at my expression. Okay, sure, we talk with the dead. Didn't we see Elvis last week at the Goa'uld version of Vegas? Right. "But that is sillier than the stories of the faeries."

"And the stories about the changelings." I clear my throat and glance over at Daniel's face, buried against the skins. "Mladen isn't Mladen, either, by the way."

She waits for me to explain, and I tell her about Daniel and how smart he is. She's impressed, but she still laughs that he's a changeling. "It's the ears, and the eyes."

Personally, I'd call him more of an imp than a faerie, but that's just me.

"Why did you think you were Aksel?" she continues. "Even though you didn't know what happened to the village, you were fairly convincing in your belief."

"Tell me about it." I jerk my thumb in Anise's direction. "Her fault, but don't ask me the details. It's... confusing."

"I can only imagine," she murmurs, but her blue eyes are fixed on Anise. "She is a friend of Sigrada's?"

"Apparently." I'm not sure if I should spill the beans about the Lady thing. While I know Idalea doesn't think the Lady myth is real, is it a good idea to fill in all the details? Well, at least the details I know? I think I'll stick with the no-details decision. "So, uh, would you like something to drink? Eat? I suck at being a host."

I have to stop with the bad expressions that just don't translate. The puzzled look on Idalea's face reminds me of Daniel and Carter when they're putting up with me at my very worst. I give her a quirky smile, but I'm saved from further awkward discussion when Anise speaks up. I just love her timing.

"I knew Sigrada when she was young," she says.

"Which clan do you belong to?" Idalea asks. "If you are from the village, I don't recognize anyone I know in your features."

"I come from another place, as does he and the others," Anise tells her. She finally leaves the bed to sit with us. I can see Carter and Teal'c watching us, wanting to be included. I'll fill them in the moment we get the goods from Tok'ra girl. "I came to your world a long time ago."

"But you are still young!" Idalea exclaims.

"Don't confuse her too much," I warn. I really don't want to get into the whole thing about the snakes and their biology. I barely have the vocabulary for that in English. I don't even want to think about it in this language where there isn't even a word _for_ biology!

Anise barely looks at me. "It is common among my people."

What a hell of a fountain of youth. I lean back in my chair and refuse to contemplate further as I run my hands through my hard-earned gray hair. "So, Anise, what brought you to these foreign woods, anyway?"

I think I'm getting used to those long pauses. "That information is classified, Colonel O'Neill."

"Reader's Digest version, then?" I wave a hand at Idalea to avoid the obvious translation questions.

Anise's gaze is fixed on Idalea. "I am the Lady."

"You're human," she shoots back.

"By all appearances, but did you not just ask how I knew Sigrada all those years ago?"

"Oh, for crying out loud." I force my way verbally into the conversation. "Enough with that. Idalea, Anise isn't the Lady, nor is she actually a lady to begin with. She came and used the legend of the Lady to her advantage. Big whoop, it's been done before. That's all."

"But you were here when the village was destroyed," Idalea says.

"I was." Anise still manages to look imperious.

"You claim a role of protection," she continues, "and yet you allowed the death and the violence to occur?"

The good old fashioned Tok'ra way. Spy on the Goa'uld and try to act all James Bond-ish while doing absolutely zip about what the poor humans have to put up with. Hell, why not mess around the humans, too, while they're at it? A rose by any other name still has thorns... and snake with pretty colors can bite just as well as a drab one.

"I could not do anything about that," Anise says flatly. There's no argument as far as she's concerned.

"You could have warned my people," Idalea shoots back. "There may have been less people in the village at the time! Fewer people would have died!"

Half of this mess would be adverted, and Sigrada's _real_ sons would be watching over her on her deathbed. I don't add that, but I think it's pretty clear in what Idalea's implying.

"And if I had, they would have known." I just love how she doesn't elaborate on the big alien issues. "I could not, even though I wished it."

"So you arrived after the village was destroyed?"

"I sought my friend."

"Who lost her two sons to the... the..." Idalea fumbles for words. I should come to her rescue and tell her about the Goa'uld, but I think these people have enough to worry about without thinking about them. "She lost them to the faeries!"

I can't help but snort. Isn't that the perfect way to describe a Goa'uld? Okay, maybe not Heru'ur, who was way too butch, but that's describing Apophis to a tee.

"I gave them back to her," Anise replies.

"Nice work, by the way," I cut in again. "At least I can blame my previous memory loss on something other than senility."

They both give me a dirty look. I'm winning fans everywhere, apparently. I lean back in my chair, mumbling apologies and let the spat continue.

"How did you give them back to her?" Idalea demands once I'm quiet again. "These are not her sons, no matter what you say."

That's what I really want to know. It wouldn't surprise me if Anise did indeed have so little respect for humans. Did she really think she could slide this little discrepancy under Sigrada's nose? I mean, with my memory almost completely back in place, I can sort of compare Daniel and me to what I think Mladen and Aksel were like. Personalities aside, I guess you could say we're physically similar to them, but resemblances can only go so far. Maybe Daniel's fitter, and I'm older.

But if someone tried to replace Charlie with another boy who was similar but not the same, I would be _pissed_. I'm also sure unless I was completely out of my gourd, I'd know the difference immediately.

So what was up with Sigrada?

I just can't imagine.

Anise actually looks away at Idalea's words. Woohoo! Score one for the unblended humans, and to one who isn't even technology advanced. But Tok'ra girl doesn't actually look embarrassed. She looks more like she's at a loss for words, which I suppose is equally impressive. Is it too much to ask for a little remorse? Apparently.

"I did not think she would come to use my gift," she finally says, and points to the device still in my temple. "The jewel was my gift to Sigrada that day."

"You captured their spirits?" Idalea asks. I guess that's a good analogy. She did get their memories and personalities, but again, the how's and why's... apparently we don't need to know.

"Yes," comes the simple response. "I also showed her how to release them."

"Their spirits returned in another vessel," a weak voice says, and a rustling of skins comes from the bed. We turn to find Sigrada struggling to sit up.

"Stay still, my friend!" Freya says as she pushes away from the table to hurry over. She gets there in time to push Sigrada back to the bed. "You are ill."

"And you've returned to tell me this?" She huffs and tries to look tough even as she rests her head against the pillow again. "I'm fine. I just need to rest a bit longer before I am well again."

"It will take more than rest."

"A herb will cure me," she retorts.

"You are as stubborn as always," comes the teasing reply. "But a herb will not help you this time. The ancestors call for you."

"I will not go." Sigrada looks over at me, and I try to keep a neutral face. "My boys need me."

I open my mouth to reply, when her gaze moves across the room. She takes in Idalea's presence, then she looks at Carter and Teal'c. And she sees Daniel, lying asleep between them. Sigrada's eyes widen, and she struggles to sit up again, fighting with a strength that's come from nowhere.

"You're stealing them from me! No!"

* * *

Breathless curses spill from Sigrada's mouth as she again fights Anise. Idalea is on her feet in moments, trying to calm the older woman. She's not having much luck, and Idalea narrowly misses getting her hand bitten. I know the fight won't continue for much longer, but if Sigrada keeps at it like this, she's going to hurt herself.

I yell at Carter to get us a sedative from her med kit. She doesn't move, her hand still on Daniel who by all appearances is still deeply asleep. She stares at me with wide, confused blue eyes. When she catches my gaze, she shakes her head with a shrug. Damn. English.

"We need a sedative!" I try again. "Now!"

She scrambles from Daniel's bed and begins rummaging in her bag. The wrestling match on the bed has calmed, but what she's now lacking in physical strength, Sigrada is making up for vocally. She's livid, red-faced and tear-streaked. I feel like crying, myself.

"Got it, sir!" Carter says.

I incline my head toward the bed. "Go help them."

She nods, and after a warning to Idalea to stay back, the sedative is delivered. Sigrada collapses to the bed, and sobs brokenly against the skins. I wonder at the tears, though. We can argue with her she isn't losing her sons since they were never actually returned to her to begin with. If what Anise says is true, and from what I'm gathering from the years after the attack on the village, Sigrada never mourned. She held fast to the idea her boys were coming back.

And those are what my tears would be. Pity, at how she managed to lie to herself about the truth. With Charlie, I could sometimes forget but never forgive myself about his accident. It's true I managed to reconcile with some of it, but to believe one day, he'd come running across the lawn to meet me? I saw the body, and held him in my arms that last time.

Did Sigrada even see the bodies when the villagers were burying the victims? Were they identifiable or charred beyond recognition? Were they brought back to the farm, or are they lying in a mass grave? And if the bodies were brought to her, did Sigrada even look?

I can imagine that. Ignoring the bodies loaded in a cart and pointedly refusing to look at them. The Lady said they'd be back, so run along and leave her alone.

"She sleeps again," Freya says as she arranges Sigrada a little straighter on the bed. "She does not have much time remaining."

I stand still and run my fingers through my hair. "Well, that was fun..."

Carter gets up. "Even though I didn't understand that, Colonel, I really have to say, you think?"

"Cute, Carter." I nod at her. "Thanks, by the way."

"Not a problem, sir."

I don't feel like talking anymore. I give Carter one last wan smile before I start to wander around the room. Maybe I should take my pacing outside. Teal'c's looking at me. I think I'm making him antsy. Anise is ignoring me again, and Idalea looks lost. But I need something to do, even if it's going back and forth in front of the fireplace.

"O'Neill, you are making me dizzy," Aldwin says.

Bite me, snake boy. I just look at him, daring him to say something else as I keep going. I'm almost at the point of ordering us to pack up and leave now. Idalea can stay behind with Sigrada. The sooner we go through the Auge, the happier I'll be.

Stargate. This isn't good. My head still feels like I've been on the merry-go-round a few too many times. But I think it's the Aksel in me, insisting that I stay. We've stayed this long, another hour or two won't hurt. I just hope we don't get trapped on this freaking planet again.

So we wait, and I keep pacing. I walk across the room, turn on my heel and head back. I face Teal'c as I go, and my gaze wanders down to see two bleary blue eyes watching me. I stop in my tracks and Daniel gives me a tired smile.

"Having fun?" he asks. The suddenness of his words actually makes Teal'c jump. I'm impressed. That doesn't happen very often. "You're going to wear a path in the floor."

"How long have you been awake?" I head over and plunk down next to him. Carter's already zeroed in on us, and Teal'c has a worried frown.

"I just got the end of that," he says, yawning. He starts to sit up, but the big guy and I hold him down.

"You should remain there, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c warns.

"Okay..." He peers at us, and his hand goes up to his temple. "Jack, this has been a weird month."

I feel one side of my mouth twisting into a smile. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Let's not even go there," he says. His fingers are tracing the surface of the probe. "Um, do you think these can come out now?"

"I think we should leave it in a bit longer, Daniel," Carter tells him. "Just in case. It's taking the Colonel a while to get his personality straightened out. You were under the influence of this thing far more than he was, so it's reasonable to think you need more time, too."

"Oh." He doesn't like that.

Big surprise. My hand goes up to play with my matching doohickey. "I'll be happy when this is over."

"Yeah. Me, too." He glances over at the other bed. "Is she okay?"

"Sigrada?"

"Yeah. Mutti."

I can't help but wince. "Trust me, Daniel, it helps the process if you don't call her that."

"Sorry." His hand drops onto the skin next to his head. "You guys said that she's... dying?"

"Yeah, Daniel," Carter says. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, Carter," I say.

"I was just saying, sir, that -"

"Jack. It's okay." Daniel interrupts. "How much longer does she have?"

"Not much longer."

He nods. "Can I go over there?"

I exchange a look with Carter. She shrugs. Daniel watches us expectantly, and I can tell he's ready to bolt upright the moment Teal'c's hand leaves his chest. I'm conflicted, like that's news. Should I let him? I'd rather he rest because I'm sure he'll never let Teal'c carry him to the Stargate. But what harm can it do if he sits at the edge of the bed?

"Please?" Daniel adds.

The fluttering blue eyes get to me. I roll my own. "Yeah, fine. Easy, though. Those devices pack a punch."

"No argument," he mutters. Teal'c helps him up by putting one arm around his shoulders, but they pause when Daniel's eyes clench shut. "Oh, whoa..."

"What?" I grab one of Daniel's shoulders. "Want to lie back down?"

"No, I'm halfway up. I can do this." One eye peeks open. "Jack, which one of you should I be addressing?"

"That's not helping my nerves, Daniel," I warn. "Keep still for a second. Do you need anything? Water?"

"Tylenol?" he asks hopefully.

"I'll get it," Carter volunteers.

We wait until Daniel's swallowed the pills and rested a bit. Teal'c doesn't mind being a pillow, and I think he's actually relieved he can be of some use. I think once we're home and everything's settled down, I have some work to do with Carter and Teal'c over their frustration from the past few weeks. I'll let it slide for now, because I'm just relieved they're actually here.

"I'm good now," Daniel finally says.

"Are you certain?" Teal'c asks.

"No, but what the hell." He starts to push up, and he pauses a moment when he's finally upright. He doesn't quite look green around the gills, but that might change if he pushes himself too much. "Much better. Thanks, guys."

Oh, yeah. Daniel's back.

I take Teal'c's place and guide Daniel over to Sigrada's bed. Idalea watches us, a small frown on her face. I know she's watching Daniel, seeking signs of the man he used to be. I think she might have to look pretty closely. Big blue eyes and pointed chin aside, I think all she needs to do is watch his face. Mladen was trusting and open, and Daniel isn't. At least not now.

But he is terminally curious. Daniel sees Idalea and he smiles in recognition. I wonder if his brain is already back in order. I think I'm jealous. Ah, to be young and flexible. Idalea smiles back, and I can hear it clicking in her mind that like me, Daniel has changed. Even the smile is more hesitant, and nothing like Mladen's grin.

Which is too bad. I miss that grin already. I'm tempted to tickle him to get it back.

Idalea must see the glint in my eye as I consider the tempting thought. She lets out a laugh that almost startles Daniel. "Are you truly brothers?"

He blinks. "No..." He looks at me, and I grin back at him. I'm so not going to answer this one for him. He has the tiniest hint of a smirk. "I have enough insane people in my family, thank you."

"Hey," I shoot back and jab him in the side with my elbow. "Get to my age and see how many marbles you have left, archaeo-boy. You're already running a deficit."

"Is that the best you can do?" he asks, then faces Idalea again. "Um, Idalea, I don't know if Jack's done the introductions yet, but I'm Daniel."

"Yes, he informed me earlier," she says, and that smile of hers is still there. "Nothing has changed, though. I still like you more than him."

He blinks, and I think he actually gets it now. Another change from Mladen, who just enjoyed it when people liked him. A blush begins to spread across Daniel's cheeks, and he ducks his head. I pat him on the shoulder and get him to sit down.

"Be nice to him," I chide her. "He's sensitive."

"I am not..." he mumbles.

Then why am I remembering the scene in the Abydos Gateroom, when Daniel forgot to breathe for several minutes after Sha're tried to excavate his tonsils? I pat him on the shoulder and let him live with his delusion. He can say what he wants, but he's as shy and modest as a schoolgirl. It's endearing.

Then Daniel is looking at Sigrada. The expression on his face changes, and I know the look as one where he's going through several different things in his mind. I can't be sure what those thoughts might be, but I can guess. He wants to understand why this happened, like I've been trying to do. He needs to get his head screwed on properly, which is hard if Mladen is lingering the way Aksel is with me. I wonder what it's like in his head right now?

But I know he's trying to see the situation from Sigrada's perspective. I think that's what worries me most. Daniel _always_ tries to understand the other guy, even when the other guy is coming so far from left field he's technically not even in the same ballpark anymore. I can see the point in the exercise, but right now, I don't want to even consider this. What Sigrada did was wrong, and I don't give a damn about Anise's intentions.

I'll give her pity but never my understanding.

I also really want to go home, now. The longer I stay, the less I feel like remaining. Sure, as Aksel I'm concerned for Sigrada, but earlier I was also concerned about Daniel as he lay passed out on his skins. He's up and definitely talking now, so I think it's our cue for the exit.

"So, Daniel," I say a few moments later, "if you're up to walking soon, I wouldn't mind getting back to the Stargate within the hour. I don't want to risk being stuck on this planet for a few months."

"I don't want to leave just yet," he says. He's switched to English.

I want to say that's too bad. I also know he won't budge an inch unless Teal'c hauls him over his shoulder. The only way to win my argument is to drum in the concept with repetition, and even then I'll be lucky. Oh, who am I kidding? Daniel will never listen. "We should go soon."

He glances at me. "Then leave if you want to, Jack. I'm sitting this through."

"Why?" I expected that answer, but I want to understand him. I know I'll probably come to regret that desire. "We don't owe her anything."

"You're right. We don't."

"So?" That was too easy. He has something up his sleeve.

"So, while we don't owe her anything, I still think I should stay with her."

"Daniel, she messed around with our heads. If it weren't for us buying a huge, honking clue, we'd still be walking around thinking we're someone else."

"I know." He gives me one of those looks, and a glimpse of something flashes through the blue. A glimmer of what I saw those times when Daniel emerged, conscious from Mladen's thoughts. Bewildered fear, and anger. "You don't think I realize that? You had it easy, Jack. My thoughts were wrong. I would know things, and say things that weren't right. But I didn't know why. One moment I would know who I was, but then I'd be someone else when that other identity was slammed down on me. And then this _thing_ would be forced into my head every night. Each time, I could feel myself slipping away a little more, but at the same time, it didn't make any sense because I was Mladen."

I can see Carter wincing, and Teal'c frowning at Daniel's words. I think they're just getting their first good idea of what we were going through. But Anise just looks away, ignoring our words as she usually does. Or is she? I just don't care anymore.

"Daniel..." I put my hand on his shoulder. Damn, I didn't want to make him upset. He doesn't respond right away, so I squeeze gently. "I'm sorry."

He lets out a slow breath of air. "But I'm not leaving yet."

"If you're sure." I just don't feel like arguing the topic anymore, and I'm not leaving him behind.

Daniel doesn't answer right away. I just stand there for a few moments before giving him one last pat on the shoulder. I'll leave him to his vigil, and let him decide when he wants to go. My hand just begins to move when he speaks.

"I envy them," he says.

"Who?" That's from Carter. She's creeping forward like she's not sure if her presence is welcome.

"Mladen and Aksel."

"Why's that?" I have a hard time seeing anything in their lives that might have Daniel's envy. Illiterate shepherds who lived a simple life in a superstitious culture. I can't think of anything outside of a purely academic attraction that might hold Daniel's interest. Abydos had Sha're and the challenge of uncovering centuries' of cultural neglect.

"She loved them," Daniel says. "She loved her sons so much she pulled a miracle, of sorts. She did bring them back. Her faith did that. And I envy them for that."

* * *

So what do you say to something like that? What words are appropriate when Daniel has that lost look in his eye?

The last thing I am is eloquent, so I shut my mouth and put my hand back on his shoulder. At least I can do that. Carter finds something interesting to occupy herself, but she's watching, just in case. Teal'c just... lingers. They'll know when they're needed. Maybe not right now but later. Even the Tok'ra twins seem to be keeping their thoughts to themselves, though I can almost imagine the wheels turning in Anise's head. The only person who can keep a steady eye on Daniel is Idalea, and that's only because she hasn't understood a word he's said. But she can see he's upset.

I don't feel too keen on enlightening her on the reasons. It really isn't my right.

And we wait.

The time comes too quickly. Sigrada's breaths become slower and softer. I don't know if I would describe her as calm, but she's relaxed. Her face is set in quiet misery. Every now and again, I see a tear forming at the edge of her closed eyes and beginning to travel down her sunken cheeks. Daniel brushes each one away before it gets too far. I can almost imagine for every hint of moisture he wipes, it appears on his own cheeks.

I have the urge to take him away from the bed. He doesn't need more pain then he's already collected from a lifetime of losses. But I know he won't let me. Why does he need to do this? In ending Sigrada's dream, is he helping his own nightmares?

I don't know if it's the sixth or the seventh or the tenth time he wipes a tear away. Sigrada's eyes open a moment after Daniel's fingers leave her cheek. The sadness in her dark eyes makes my breath catch in my throat. I remember Sara with that same emotion in the days after Charlie died. I worked on automatic back then, focusing on getting Sara through it while neglecting my own pain and culpability. I used to bring my wife her meals as she lay in bed, and her eyes would stare through me, blinded by grief.

I want to say welcome to the real world, Sigrada. Where death means just that, and where you have to live with what fate has dealt you. But I keep silent. I've done enough venting.

Sigrada stares at Daniel. She searches his face, looking for signs of Mladen. Does she see anything of him? I don't know. She's straining for something, so it's possible there's only Daniel. He's smiling at her, but tears begin to fall again from Sigrada's eyes. She looks away, her gaze drifting to Idalea and Anise before she focuses on me. All I can see is accusation, grief and betrayal.

The Aksel in me starts to cringe at the heated glare. I start to look away, but movement catches my attention. Daniel has reached out to touch Sigrada's cheek. In a soft voice, he says, "Mutti?"

She blinks at him. That's definitely surprised her. I admit I'm still a little leery about Daniel calling her that. Sigrada's entire expression changes, from uncertain to neutral. It's costing her a lot of effort. Her voice is as weak as Daniel's is quiet. "No. You are not him."

A little too late to buy a clue, in my opinion, but Daniel has something up his sleeve.

"It is me, Mutti," he says. I find that if I listen closely, I can catch something in his voice. I don't know how to describe it, but I'm almost tempted to say it's Mladen emerging for a moment. The cadence of his voice is different, a little more halting and definitely not as smooth.

"Daniel," I begin, but he shoots me a look. He wants me to shut up, that's pretty clear. I raise my hands to show I'll let him go on his merry old way, but I'll step in when I have to. Colonel's discretion.

But amazingly enough, Sigrada seems to be responding. She wants to believe him. I can see that much in her eyes. She raises a trembling hand to his face, and he catches it. He puts her palm against his cheek.

"I know you're tired, Mutti," he continues, "and you can rest in a moment. I want you to know it worked."

"What did?" she whispers. A puzzled frown creases her brow as her gaze searches his face. She finally fixes on the doodad in his temple, which by all accounts she's been forcing into his head since the whole mess began. Her expression darkens, and she tries to take her hand away. "No. The Lady's gift did not work."

I see Anise's face twitch in indignation. She keeps her mouth shut. That's the wisest thing she's done besides fixing our heads.

"It did," Daniel says. He's not letting Sigrada's hand go.

"I am an old fool," she says. "I lived a good life. I worked hard, and yet I end up with nothing. What does that say about me?"

"You are a good woman," Daniel tells her. "You did what you thought was right."

She looks away, and I can hear her breaths catching. Ragged and short. She's wasting her energy with her anger and grief. I'm almost beginning to feel sorry for her, and I'm relieved to hear her beginning to repent. I think that's what this is. I could be wrong.

And I want to slap Daniel. What's he playing at?

"I did not listen to the omens," Sigrada moans. "I could see something would happen. I still let you go. You went into the village to perish. All my work, and all my hopes... I had to listen to her. She would give it all back to me. My friend... my long-time friend who has never let me down. She would help, and so I waited..."

The light begins to fade from Sigrada's eyes. She blinks back tears, then looks at me. "Forgive me, my son, for failing you," she says.

I find words clamoring in my throat, choking me. When I find my voice, I'm almost surprised at what I say. "He's right. You failed no one."

Ah! I shush my inner voices. Let the old lady go in peace.

"Mutti," Daniel continues. He still has her hand against his cheek as he repeats himself. "Mutti, it worked."

A tired smile crosses her lips. "What worked, Mladen?"

Eek. I'm biting my lip.

"I'm okay now," he whispers. "No one will ever say there's something wrong with me again. Your gem worked. You can rest now. I'll watch over Aksel for you, and he'll look out for me, the way he always has. You've earned your rest, Mutti."

And she looks at him. She _really_ looks at him. Her eyes widen, and a tremulous smile curves her lips. She pats his cheek, or it looks that way. "It is true...?"

"It is." He leans forward, and places a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I love you. Rest, Mutti."

When he pulls away, her eyes are closed and she's let out her last breath.

I can't keep my eyes off Daniel. He's sitting so very still. I feel like I'm watching him in slow motion as he slowly stands, and turns away from the bed. His face is pale, and his eyes are fixed on the floor. I take a step toward him when I see a glimpse of bright blue eyes, furiously blinking back tears.

Carter moves faster than I do. She brushes past me, almost pushing me aside in her rush to get to Daniel. He doesn't respond as she touches his arm. She calls his name, and he finally blinks, looking at her. She gives him a little smile as her arm goes around his middle.

"Come on, Daniel," she says, her voice soft. "You should go rest a little bit more."

She's trying to lead him away, but he's not moving. He glances back at the bed, blinking back a few more tears, then suddenly pulls Carter to him. I catch a glimpse of her blue eyes, wide with surprise, before her face is against his shoulder. The hug he gives her is fierce, but just as she's starting to return it, he's pulled away again. A faint hint of a blush colors his cheeks.

"Um, sorry..." he begins.

"No, it's okay." She's definitely worried.

So am I, but maybe not as much as I was. I sidle alongside them and slide my arm across Daniel's shoulders. I know he won't ask, but hugs are free from me. I squeeze, giving him the hint as I lead him away. Teal'c shadows us as we make our way.

"Guys," Daniel announces just as we're going to set him down on his bed, "I think I'm ready to go home, now."

Now that's a surprise. He sounds just... wiped. I get him down on the sheepskins and tell him firmly, "Nap first. Leave after."

He glares.

I stare.

He sighs.

I win.

* * *

EPILOGUE

Home.

Twenty-five stories underground, cement walls and floors, and fluorescent lighting. Okay, so it's not my house, but I probably spend twice as much time here at the SGC. Home away from home and all that crap, but it's true. I stroll down the halls in my green fatigues. This is me. I'm back!

The minions run in terror. Hah.

It's nice to know we've been missed, though. I have a huge pile of reports that seemed to magically collect once I showed up in my office, and I heard rumors of Daniel going orgasmic with the crap that's piled up in his absence. Or was that apoplectic? Just another day in the life.

I do have to admit being back is really nice. I don't look like an extra from Braveheart. Hammond looked rather astonished when Daniel and I emerged from the Stargate. I guess beards and kilts can do that to a guy. And while my head still feels off, I'm pretty clear on which part of my gray matter belongs to me.

Right now, I want to get the hell out of here. Today's mystery meat is apparently mutton, and Ferretti's just grinning at me. Bastard. He'll get what's coming soon enough. Anyway, Carter says she's taped all the games for me, bless her heart. I think pizza and beer would go perfectly with a few of those. So in a few minutes, I'll be making the great escape.

But first, I need to check on Daniel. I haven't seen much of him since the debrief. I think he was still a little disoriented after everything, or that's the impression he gave me. He didn't say too much and spent most of the time watching everyone with wide eyes. It's like he was taking everything in again for the first time.

Or, which has me way more worried, Mladen was still there. I won't be surprised to find out if it's the latter. I mean, it took me how long to get my head screwed on properly? He's had less time to get things straightened out, but he'll be fine. I'm sure of that. Carter and Teal'c are ready to help him if he needs it, and so am I.

I walk into his office without knocking. Oops, I should have. He hasn't heard me yet, and no wonder! He has his nose buried in a bag of coffee grinds, inhaling like a junkie with his eyes closed in ecstasy.

Of all the times to not have a camera... I cough, leaning against the doorjamb. "Uh... Daniel? I hate to interrupt..."

His head shoots up, nearly dropping the bag. He looks so guilty I have to bite back a laugh. He does look like I've caught him at something naughty. I don't think I've ever seen him so mortified.

"Jack!" He sets the bag down, and immediately wraps his arms around his middle. He's trying to act casual, and oh so failing at it. "I, uh, didn't hear you come in."

"No wonder," I tease, and the grin erupts onto my lips. This is blackmail material. "I mean, I always knew you were a caffeine junkie, but that's going a little far, isn't it?"

The color in his cheeks deepens even more. "I just needed to remind myself... I mean, they just smell so good..."

"So does this mean withdrawal is really psychological rather than physical? Because it looks like it's really hitting now," I continue. I remember him coming back from Abydos and doing something similar to a pot of coffee. Somehow his face never got scalded even though it was freshly brewed. I guess he wasn't that desperate. But come to think of it, I can't remember the last time he's shown that simple kind of pleasure over something. As himself, that is. "Why don't you make yourself a pot? Or grab a cup from the commissary?"

He makes a face. "I was tempted, but then I got wind of what they're serving today. Ferretti told me. He knows some pretty god-awful jokes."

What's the difference between Jack O'Neill and a Rolling Stone? Been there, endured that. "I think tasteless is a bit more accurate."

"That was the next adjective on my list." He stretches and yawns. "But back to the coffee. Janet's orders are for sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. No coffee until tomorrow, or she'll have my hide."

"At least she didn't say sheep," I mumble. "So you're stuck with see no evil, taste no evil. Things could be worse."

"But I sure can smell evil," he grins.

"So I saw." I spot a new and interesting artifact lying off to the side. It's a small stone jar covered with hieroglyphs, and the lid is in the shape of a bird's head. An uncanny jar. There's nothing inside, but I can spin the lid over the hole. "Anyway, how's the head?"

Daniel doesn't notice me playing. "I think I know what's what now."

"That's an important part," I agree. The lid goes around and around, but not up and down. Nuts. "Um... Daniel, look, if you want to... you know, talk?"

He looks up from the books he's shuffling. His eyes narrow when he sees what I'm playing with. "Talk?"

"Yeah. You know. Talk."

"Right." He takes the jar and gives me a slinky. I stare at the coil. Where did he get this? I think it's mine. I know I used to have one, somewhere. How did it turn up here? "I don't know, Jack. What is there left to say?"

"You tell me," I shoot back.

He rolls his eyes, but doesn't answer. I'm not really in the mood to press further. I threw out the invitation, and when he's ready, Daniel will go for it. But not yet. That's good enough for me. I pull on the slinky, my attention already devoted to the books piled on Daniel's desk. I wonder if I could arrange them for my slinky without having my hands slapped? It's worth a try.

I get a few levels set up. I know Daniel's watching me. I think he might be getting impatient, but I don't know for sure. He should be glad he's not in the middle of a translation, otherwise he'd find me insufferable. More than he usually does, that is. I'd be out on my ass faster than a Goa'uld can say "kree."

But, nope. A moment later, he's beside me, arranging more books and files to make more levels. He's focused the way he would be with the excavation of an artifact. He glances over to see me watching him a moment later, and gives a little shrug as he finishes with a final touch to the stacks.

"I thought a larger angle might be more fun," he says.

"Yeah." I examine what we've created. "That's pretty sweet."

"And I have some boxes we can put right below the desk," he continues. "That way it doesn't have to stop right away at the edge."

I like that idea! "Go for it!"

We get a ramp set up, more or less. Daniel's really getting into it, and he manages to get a staggered slope that stretches out for a few feet beyond his desk. The moment of truth comes as I stand behind the desk with the slinky in hand.

"Ready?" I ask him.

"Yeah." He's looking at the collection of boxes, books and - I'm still shocked - artifacts we've collected. "Whenever you are, Jack."

"On three, two, one...!" I let the slinky go. It descends one step, then another and continues until it falls off the desk without even reaching the ramp. "Aw, damn."

Daniel pouts for a moment as he tries to figure out what went wrong.

"Maybe it was just a kink in the slinky?" I ask. "I mean, I was pulling on that thing really hard..."

"Or we just need to readjust the slope. Your slinky wasn't kinky." He grins up at me. "And I'm a poet but I didn't know it."

I groan. "Bad, Daniel."

"I know," he grins. A moment later, he's focused on the problem again. "Hey, we should get Sam involved with this. I bet she could come up with some really wicked ideas."

"Maybe, or she could also suck all the fun out of it."

"Or that," he nods. "But if we ply her with chocolate beforehand, I'm sure she'd be fine."

"Maybe," I say again. That's a pretty devious idea. I'd love to see my 2IC on a sugar high. I watch Daniel arranging a few more things, and then he fusses over the steps. I could get used to seeing him like this. I bet he doesn't get that same delighted smile when he's doing his translations. Or not very often, anyway. "You're having fun?"

"Don't make it sound like such a shock," he says. "I had my first slinky when I was four. I, uh, used it on one of the pyramids."

And in my mind's eye, I imagine a three-foot high Daniel beaming with delight as a slinky descends oh so steadily down the steep slope of a Giza pyramid. My parental instincts kick in by providing the image of two adults, maybe more, racing to where the little troublemaker was playing. "I bet your parents just loved that."

Daniel gives a little laugh. "Oh, they were freaked."

"More for the pyramid or more for you?" I ask, and suddenly I'm not joking anymore. I'm genuinely curious and concerned. Not that I've ever asked, but Daniel has said very little about his parents over the years. I know their names and that they were archaeologists, and his mom had an equally thorny relationship with good old Nick. I'm not sure if there's anything else to add to the short list which couldn't be supplied from Daniel's records.

He blinks. "For me. Dad leaped up the steps and grabbed me by the waist of my shorts. I wasn't going to fall, but I guess they didn't like me being that far up."

"Charlie did that to me with this big tree in the backyard," I say. "He'd climb up, I'd drag him down, but then he'd be back up there like I hadn't said anything."

A little smile crosses Daniel's lips. "Yeah, I guess it's a kid thing. I went right back up there the next chance I had. The next time I got caught, Dad joined me and we played for a bit. Our little secret from Mom."

"Cool." I like that idea, Jacksons senior and junior sharing one of those moments that are always cherished later. I wish I had more of those memories. I mean, I do have a lot, but what I would give to get just one more.

I guess I look wistful. That's a shocker. Not. But what is surprising is Daniel's hand tentatively placed on my arm. I shoot my head up to look at him. He's worried, which is nice. I guess whenever I've mentioned my kid's name in past, it's been a cause for concern or something.

"Jack..." I think he knows the thoughts running through my head. Oh, who am I kidding? I have no doubts whatsoever he knows each and every thought that occurs to me, whether it's a flash of insight or a gerbil running on a wheel. "You know that's why she did it."

"Sigrada?" Like the pronoun needed clarification. Speaking gives me the excuse to avoid clenching my teeth. I have issues. Sue me.

He nods. "She just... wanted more of those moments. And you know, I think I did, too. In a way, I mean."

Huh. I hadn't thought of that. Well, okay, I did but at the time, I thought that stubborn refusal was Mladen. I guess I was mistaken. "You wanted to stay, why?"

I know I'm hitting sensitive ground, and I'm not expecting him to actually answer. Sure, we're already touching on already thorny issues, but as men, I'm only expecting us to go so far. Well, he can question me all he wants, but I'm positive I'm going to get no deeper than this.

But Daniel is always a surprise.

"I didn't get to say good-bye to my real mother, so..." He shrugs as he trails off. "I guess I didn't want it to happen for a second time. Even if, uh, she wasn't... you know. She was lonely. I just couldn't leave her like that, at the end."

He's a better man than I. "Well, I just couldn't wait to get the hell off that planet."

"I noticed," he says dryly. "But thanks for waiting, Jack."

It's my turn to shrug. "Well, you know..."

"Yeah," he grins. He glances back at the mess we created, then shakes his head. "That was probably the most immature thing I've done in a while."

"All in the company you keep," I tell him, and when his grin widens, I groan. "I walked into that one."

"With your eyes wide open," he confirms. He gives me a look over the rim of his glasses. I've missed seeing those. "Are you sure you're okay, Jack?"

"Never been better," I say, even though I've been chased by the ghost of a headache since we came back through the Stargate. "Come on, how about I drive you home?"

"Thanks, but Sam already offered. I'm supposed to meet her by the elevator at 1430, which," he glances at the nearest clock, "is in about fifteen minutes."

"Oh, come on. It's not too late to cancel." I wave him toward the phone. "I insist."

"Well, if I had my way, I'd be driving myself, but Janet's naysayed that."

"No wonder. You know the little Napoleonic power monger sometimes has a good reason for putting the kibosh on things." I motion again for the phone. "Go on. Call Carter, then get your gear."

But I don't like the way he's biting his lip. "Jack, are you _sure_ you're good for driving?"

"Hey, I've never felt better, and I'll improve even more once I'm safe and sound in my own bed. I'm way more worried about you with your head just screwed back on." I shove him playfully. "Get going. Now."

He's still looking at me suspiciously. He smells a rat, but I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing I'm not up to snuff. I walk past him to get his books. I have no idea if he'll actually need them, but I know once I start touching things, he'll move if only to slap me away.

The ploy works every time.

"What are you doing?" he demands, right on schedule.

"Packing?" I'm so trying to be innocent. He sees through it.

"Ah, don't touch!" he protests, right on schedule. "I don't need that one."

"Which one?" I pick out the only Budge book he even remotely tolerates. He says he likes the pictures. Who am I to argue? "This one?"

His eyes narrow dangerously. "You're not serious."

"Well, considering you're not about to budge?" Bad pun. He's getting annoyed. Good. I reach out to ruffle his short hair after I set the book down. "Come on, Daniel."

"Hey!" That's the second worst offense next to playing with the glasses, and a big change from Mladen. He reaches for my hand, trying to yank it away.

"What?" I love having fast reflexes. I'm also feeling especially daring as I dodge before going in for a full assault on his sides. I get in a good tickle before he can even shriek in protest.

"Jack!" he almost whines. Almost. He's close to it, though... but I'll spare him that indignity.

But just as I think I'm going to get off scot free, he's grabbed one of my hands and he wedges his fingers into the tender points in the wrist. Ow! That's the way I taught him a few years back. Dammit, that hurts! I don't actually howl in pain, but I think mewling might work a bit better.

I'm such a wuss.

"Don't tickle me, Jack," he warns.

I get something out that sounds like a gagged denial. "I didn't... Ow!"

He twists and waits.

"Okay!" I yelp. "I give! I give!"

He smiles sweetly and lets me go. I grasp my sore wrist and glare at him.

"Sadist," I snarl.

"Learned from the best," he shoots back, collecting his books. The kitten's put back his claws, and when he sees me glaring at him, nursing my pride more than my wrist, he blinks those blue eyes at me. Butter won't melt in that mouth. Not.

I finally have to laugh. "Have I mentioned lately I'm glad you didn't remember how to do that on the planet?"

Daniel stops what he's doing and glances back at me again. "Oh. Right." One hand rubs against his black t-shirt, in one of the areas I vaguely remember hitting when I was Aksel. "It would have served you right."

"Him right," I correct. "You know I would never..."

"I know." He gives me a small smile. "I know you wouldn't, Jack."

"Good. Are you done yet?"

He sighs. "No, I'm not."

"Why not?"

"Because you keep distracting me, that's why," he shoots back.

"I am not," I protest.

"You are, too."

"Not."

"And you've just proved my point," he says. "Do I need to whack you with my book?"

Budge is being aimed my way. Oh, now _there_ is a threat. "I'm so scared, Daniel. Just shaking in my boots! Now hurry up."

He's definitely not going to hurry now. "So what do you think is going to happen to Anise now?"

"Now who's doing the distracting?" I tease. "But seriously, I think Aldwin has some interesting evidence for the Tok'ra Council to consider."

"Oh, right. You said so in the briefing," he says. "I hope she gets what's coming to her."

"After the crap she's put us through since the very first day we met her?" I go to pick up the fallen slinky. I need something to occupy myself while waiting. Daniel's so slow sometimes... I singsong, "And she had fun, fun, fun 'til the Council took her goodies away."

A laugh from the door catches our attention. Carter's there, a hand over her mouth as she tries really hard not to laugh. Teal'c is standing over her shoulder, staring at me like I've just crawled out from under a particularly interesting rock.

"My ears!" Carter giggles. I'm tempted to wiggle a finger in my ear to make sure I heard her correctly. "Oh, of all the times I wish I had a tape recorder!"

I make a face. "Blackmail, Carter? Surely that's beneath you."

"Oh, sir, it would be perfect." She grins. "I'll just turn it on, and you'll be out the door before I can even say 'play.'"

"Doc Fraiser tried it with our 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat' routine, remember?" I give her my own nasty grin. "The tape ended up mysteriously unraveled on her desk. Besides, you missed the best of all a few minutes ago. Daniel had his nose - ow!"

Daniel puts Budge back on his desk and ignores my wounded look. "Sam, is it 1430 already?"

"Almost, but I figured you'd be held up."

"We also endeavored to find O'Neill," Teal'c says. "I am pleased we are able to slay two birds with one stone."

Smooth, but am I that predictable? "Oh, yeah?"

"Dr. Fraiser does not believe you should drive."

"Since when?" I demand, and I glare at Daniel when he gets that knowing smile.

"It's precautionary, sir." Carter eyes me for a moment. "You're probably fine, but I'd rather drive you and put up with your whining than see you get run off the road in a relapse."

"I so do not whine," I say.

"Don't encourage him, guys," Daniel warns. "I'm ready to go home."

"Well, actually, we were wondering if you'd like to go out for dinner first," Carter suggests. She smiles at us. "My treat. A welcome home present."

"Oh?" I like this idea. My re-wounded pride goes up a notch.

"That would be nice, Sam. Thank you." Daniel gives her a wide smile which she returns.

"O'Neill, I will be pleased to order you a Happy Meal," Teal'c tells me.

"Only if it's a cool toy," I say, playing along.

"I understand they are," the big guy replies. "They are miniature replicas of domesticated animals. I am told this week, the featured toy is an ovine."

I look at him warily, then I focus on Daniel for translation.

"Sheep."

I'm never going to live this down...

*fin*


End file.
